Her Second Marriage, Being Mr. Moore's New Wife

Finally Nathan followed the order and left. He closed the door behind him considerately for Kennedy When he left, and the room became quiet again. Kennedy put the towel on the desk and puckered his thin

lips.

"Can you solve the problems with your tears?"

Charlotte's tears kept sliding down her face. Even though he had been wiping them for her for a while, they kept falling, so he pulled his hand back and gave a grim smile, "If you can't be reconciled, just fight back. Tears... are the most useless things in the world."

Although Charlotte was drunk, she could hear someone talking to her indistinctly. However, she couldn't make out what he was saying exactly. She could only feel that her head was going to explode. Feeling sick, she opened her eyes with difficulty, but saw a tall and slender figure walking in the room.

It was a... familiar figure.

But, who was he?

Her eyelids and mind were so heavy that Charlotte shut her eyes and fell asleep immediately.

The consequence of hangovers was headaches.

When Charlotte woke up the next morning, her head was still so painful that she sat up with her head covered in her hands. It was when she saw the brightness in room that she calmed down slowly. After sitting dumbly for about ten seconds, Charlotte turned around and looked at Kennedy's huge bed.

He was lying there upright, clearly not awake yet.

Charlotte tried to grab her phone, but it wasn't under her pillow, so she had to get out of bed and tip-toed to the bathroom. When she passed by the desk, she realized that it was covered with her belongings. Charlotte glanced at the clock, and it was still pretty early in the morning.

She washed her face in the bathroom and, and felt her headache was getting better.

In the mirror, Charlotte caught the look of her face: dark circles under her eyes, pale face, messy hair and puffy eyes. She looked horrible in every way... Charlotte stretched out her hands to cover her face. It was just incredible. How could this happen?

Charlotte almost thought she was staring at a real ghost, so she pinched her cheeks hard to give a little color to her face, and then applied the wet towel to her eyes, until they became less puffy. Now that she was barely presentable, Charlotte let out a sigh and walked out of the bathroom.

When passing by Kennedy's bed, Charlotte couldn't help glancing at him. A scene flashed through her mind all of a sudden, a tall and slender figure walking through the room.

At this thought, she froze instantly in place.

She was drunk last night, did she hallucinate? However... why was that scene so clear? That figure had seemed to be him, but.....

Charlotte's gaze fell upon the wheelchair nearby.

He had been in the wheelchair all the time and she had helped him before. Apparently, he was completely disabled.

Was she drunk and confused? Or was she...dreaming?

Charlotte rubbed her aching forehead, and returned to bed, intending to sleep for a while longer.

When Charlotte lay down, a few more images burst into her mind. She threw herself into Kennedy's arms in the pub, throwing her arms around his neck; she slipped her arms around his slim waist in the car; and... they kissed in the elevator.

The images ended here. Once she put the broken images together, Charlotte could almost guess what had happened.

She was having a breakdown, lying there, not daring to move.

Last night, she really drank too much. It didn't occur to her that she would have done that much. Did she used to be like this too? No! She had never allowed herself to black out before. She would cook and shower after she got home, and then went to bed.

However, last night, why did she?

Was it because she had been too sad? Or did she think that Kennedy was a reliable man, so she...?

Charlotte was in an emotional turmoil, her eyes closed, and her mind was a mess.

However, wild thoughts failed to beat drowsiness. Charlotte fell asleep. When she woke up again, she was awakened by the noise in the room. Charlotte opened her eyes, sat up and found that Kennedy had already got up and was washing up in the bathroom.

Charlotte turned over and pulled the quilt up to cover herself.

She felt too ashamed to see anyone because she had done such a humiliating thing last night.

She was so depressed.

She had to wait until he left before she got up. It would be better if they didn't see each other face to face. Charlotte made up her mind and released a sigh eventually.

The bathroom door opened and the noise of the wheelchair came through.

Charlotte lifted the quilt up and peeked through the crack between the quilt and the bed, and saw Kennedy sitting in the wheelchair as expected.

She knew it. How was it possible for Kennedy to stand up? She must have been drunk or mistaken.

Wait. Why was that wheelchair coming her way? Charlotte put down the quilt suddenly and pretended to be sleeping.

"Get up if you're awake."

Kennedy said coldly. Charlotte lay still and pretended not to hear, closing her eyes and telling herself that she was sleeping. "Feeling ashamed?"

Charlotte's whole body quivered. Did he know she was awake?

"Weren't you so lively last night?" Kennedy went on.

Charlotte bit her lower lip. She did remember it, so what? She just pretended that she didn't know anything.

After a while, there was no sound outside. Charlotte felt strange and quietly poked her head out. Where the wheelchair used to be was empty. It seemed that Kennedy had gone. Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief, and finally lifted the quilt away and emerged from it.

It was almost suffocating her...

After lifting the quilt, Charlotte was stunned in place. The man she thought had left was actually sitting there, but in a different position.

Their eyes met in the air, and the situation was extremely awkward.

Silence...

One second, two seconds... Charlotte bit her lower lip, and the next second she jumped out of bed and rushed toward the bathroom.

"Feeling ashamed because of what happened last night?"

However, Kennedy's words stopped her steps immediately. Charlotte turned around. She wanted to run away, but she changed her mind. She stood still and clenched her fists silently.

"No."

Charlotte was biting her lips. Her gaze fell upon Kennedy's handsome face, her red lips trembling slightly.

"Thank you... for taking me back last night."

Hearing that, Kennedy raised his eyebrows, and squinted at her.

"You seem to remember what happened?"

"Almost, most of them," Charlotte said softly and then raised her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. Biting her lip, she seemed to be hesitating over something. She said after a while, "Last night... did I do anything indecent?"

Those memories were broken into pieces. She knew what had happened roughly, but... she knew nothing else, such as... what had happened after the kiss? What exactly had happened? She couldn't have talked nonsense to Kennedy, right?

As she pondered, Kennedy's focused gaze fell on her face, so hot that it almost burned a hole in her face. She returned to her senses just in time to meet his gaze. "Anything indecent?" Kennedy sneered, "What do you think?"

Hearing his words, Charlotte gripped the corner of her shirts tight and even her eyelashes were fluttering, "I don't think I've done anything... to you, right?" She really... had no idea!

"What? Did you really want to do something to me?"☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐☐