That night, the sky seemed to be stained with ink, pitch-black and dotted with only a few flickering stars. The night was deep, and the villa neighborhood, which wasn't very noisy during the day, was even quieter now.
Inside the brightly lit house, Charlotte Cooper looked at Henry Russell, who was sitting silently on the sofa. She pursed her lips, her hair hanging messily by her ears as her pretty face showed a hint of panic and helplessness for the first time.
Her suitcase was still at the door. Charlotte had rushed here as soon as she got off the plane, worried that Henry would get angry if she was late.
But even after she arrived home, Henry hadn't given her a proper glance, staring at the TV all the time and not saying a word.
Charlotte looked at Henry's cold face, her eyebrows furrowed together. He was clearly angry and deliberately ignoring her.
Charlotte sighed helplessly in her heart. She had no choice but to appease him when he was angry.