After dinner, Arthur offered to take Aria home first and then come back for me.

I readily agreed.

Arthur opened the passenger door first, then walked around to the driver's seat. After Aria was seated, he leaned over to fasten her seatbelt.

Aria and I locked eyes in the rearview mirror.

She spread her hands, offering a helpless expression.

I thought for a moment, then walked forward and carefully instructed, "Drive slowly."

Arthur and I met eyes, his expression a bit strained.

"Let's go, don't keep Charlie waiting too long," Aria urged, nudging his arm.

After they left, I turned and hailed a ride.

On the way, Arthur called a few times, but I didn't answer.

When I got home, I started packing. I didn't own much, just some daily necessities and books.

By the time Arthur got home, I had already packed most of my things.

He looked at the packages on the floor, his tone unpleasant.

"You're leaving home just because I took Aria home first? Charlotte, when did you become so dramatic?"

He still didn't understand why I was angry, continuing to avoid the main issue.

But I had no intention of explaining.

I stood up, lightly patted his cheek, and forced a smile. "What are you thinking? I'm just getting ready to move into our new home."

Last year, Arthur and I bought a new house, and if all goes well, we should be moving in next month.

But Arthur doesn't need to come along anymore.

Arthur's expression softened a bit as he handed me a bouquet of lilies. "Charlie, these are for you."

It was the first time he had called me that.

When we first started dating, I called him "baby" and "honey", but he never responded.

If I called again, he'd just give me a cold look.

"Just call me by my name," he had said.

He always called me "Charlotte", often omitting even that.

At our wedding, when the officiant asked him to name ten nicknames that belonged to us, he couldn't come up with a single one.

I had to step in and save him from the embarrassment.

Now, calling me Charlie, he was probably been influenced by Aria.

I took the flowers and casually placed them on the table.

"What's wrong? You don't like them?"

I had to admit Arthur was being a bit overly sensitive today.

In the past, I'd always responded to his gifts with exaggerated enthusiasm.

It wasn't just about trying to please him; I genuinely cherished his thoughtfulness.

Even a simple hairpin he bought on a whim to support a college student's startup at the subway entrance would be carefully treasured by me.

But honestly, those moments were rare.

"No, they're lovely and smell fantastic," I replied with a smile.

Arthur still seemed unsure.

He repeated himself, "Charlotte, let me say it again, Aria is just my junior from school. She has this dependency on me, and after spending so many years abroad, she's still adjusting to being back. I'm just being a responsible senior, that's all."

I looked at him playfully without saying a word.

A department can have anywhere from dozens to hundreds of people.

Did he treat everyone with such care?

As if remembering something, he took my hand. "I'm sorry about losing the baby, but we have to keep moving forward."

So, he still remembered that I had just lost a child.

Because it wasn't his pain, he could self-righteously demand that I move on.

But when I tried to move on, his heart began to waver.

He was looking at another woman.

"Maybe this child just came at the wrong time," I said.

He was about to say something more, but a sudden ringing interrupted him.

"The installers are here, right?

"You can't handle it alone, don't push yourself.

"These guys are slippery; wait for me, I'll be right there."

Arthur hung up the phone and rushed out without looking back. "I need to go to Aria's place; the furniture delivery guys are there. She can't handle it alone."

"It's okay, go ahead, don't keep them waiting."

I realized that when I decided to let go, I could be understanding, too.

My voice was drowned out by the sound of his footsteps down the stairs.

To save time, he didn't even wait for the elevator.

It was ironic. As an interior designer, Arthur never once visited the site. I was left to handle the renovation of our own home all by myself.

When I asked him for a design plan, he glanced at it briefly and said I could handle everything.

So, there I was, managing the entire renovation by myself, dealing with those crafty foremen, trying to prevent them from cutting corners.

By the time the renovation was finished, I fell seriously ill.

I visibly became more haggard, but Arthur didn't even notice.

He continued scrolling through videos, not even looking up, as he said, "It's just a house; there's no need to put so much effort into it."

Even in nature, male birds help build nests with their partners, but Arthur couldn't manage that.

When it came to Aria, even for something as simple as installing a wardrobe, Arthur insisted on overseeing every detail as if it were some grand project.

I opened my phone and scrolled through Aria's Instagram.

Although the figures were intentionally blurred, I recognized Arthur instantly.

He was wearing the suit I bought at the airport in April while attending an overseas conference.

It was a four-day event that took me across three countries and four cities.

I didn't buy anything for myself; I only brought back a gift for him.

And now, here he was, wearing the suit I bought, busy helping out at Aria's place.

His sharp suit looked so out of place among the workers.

Aria captioned the photo: [It's good you're here.]

I casually liked the post and turned off my screen.