Hearts On The Highrise

Chapter 37 : tender moments

Engfa's pov

Alone in the silence that enveloped the room, I watched as Charlotte retreated to the guest bedroom, a pang of regret gnawing at my conscience. I wished I had let her explain, allowed her words to bridge the gaping chasm that had formed between us.

Yet, the image of her in Mew's arms lingered in my mind, a bitter reminder of my own insecurities.

I wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between the desire to reach out to her and the fear of causing further hurt. In the solitude of the empty room, I grappled with the weight of my actions, grappling with the realization that my own jealousy had clouded my judgment.

When I prepared for bed, I made a conscious decision to give Charlotte the space she needed to rest. The last thing I wanted was to disturb her further, knowing it could only exacerbate the situation.

As I slipped under the blankets, I was unable to rid myself of the weight of discomfort that was building up inside me. The events of the evening looped through my mind. I tossed and turned, fighting the agitation inside me, looking for a way to make things right.

The next morning, I got up early and headed straight for the kitchen, determined to prepare a hearty breakfast for Charlotte. I didn't often cook, let alone for someone else, but once again I found myself preparing a meal for her.

As the aroma of pancakes wafted through the air, I busied myself making coffee and squeezing fresh orange juice, each task a labor of love tinged with a sense of urgency to mend what had been broken.

As I struggled to flip the pancakes, a searing pain shot through my finger, which accidentally brushed against the hot pan. I winced and swore, momentarily forgetting that Charlotte was already up and about. It wasn't until I felt her gentle touch on my hand, guiding it under the cool spray of water from the tap, that I realized she was there.

Surprised, I turned to discover her worried gaze fixed on me, her expression a mixture of concern and attention. Charlotte's quick reaction to my injury, her instinctive gesture of comfort, touched me deeply.

"Maybe you should be a bit more careful," Charlotte suggested gently, her voice soft with concern as she spoke. "Thank you," I murmured, offering Charlotte a cup of coffee.

Charlotte and I sat opposite each other at the breakfast table, enjoying the morning light that filtered through the windows and gave the room a soft, golden hue.

Glancing over at her, I noticed the slight traces of exhaustion etched on her features, silent testimony to the tumultuous events of the previous day. Yet, in the weary look in her eyes, there was a quiet determination, an unshakeable will to make things right.

Reaching for her coffee, Charlotte's fingers curled around the warm mug, finding solace in its comforting embrace. "Thank you," she murmured softly, a grateful smile gracing her lips as she took a sip.

I cleared my throat gently, breaking the stillness that enveloped us. "Charlotte," I began, my voice tinged with sincerity, "I'm sorry about last night. I didn't mean what I said."

Her gaze fixed on her plate as she absentmindedly toyed with her food. Sensing her unease, I watched her closely, waiting for her response.

Finally, she looked up, meeting my eyes with a faint smile. "It's okay," she said softly, her voice carrying a sense of reassurance.

I rose from my seat and walked around the table towards Charlotte, who continued to stare at her plate. I gently extended my hand towards hers, while my other hand gently lifted her chin, encouraging her to meet my gaze.