The Day Our Promise Breaks
Chapter 77

"Take her home," Charles' deep, husky voice resonated from outside the car. Then, the door clicked shut.

Dahlia, who had been waiting with her eyes half-closed, expected Charles to make his move. She snapped her eyes wide open, where not a hint of drunkenness remained. She couldn't believe her eyes as she looked at the empty back seat. In a flash, she sat up, swung the car door open, and grabbed Charles by the wrist. Her eyes, glistening with unshed tears, locked onto his. "Charles, where are you going? Aren't you taking me home?" she asked softly. Charles didn't say a word. His gaze was icy as he looked at her, and that look made Dahlia's breath catch. The words she wanted to say were stuck in her throat. She knew Charles too well and understood what that look meant he was angry.

She had thought that Charles agreeing to go with her to the private room meant he loved her enough to disregard his principles for her, that her deceitful win wouldn't matter to him. But she was wrong.

Panic bubbled up inside Dahlia. She knew that Charles' love was her only anchor. Instinctively, she tightened her grip on his hand. Her eyes turned red, a mist of tears forming, as she looked up at him with a pleading gaze. "Charles..."

He loved her so much. Surely, he couldn't bear to see her unhappy. However, Charles didn't give her a chance to soften him. He brushed off her hand and walked away with determined strides.

---

Evelyn had learned about Debbie's Garden after Charles and Dahlia got together. Sena was aware of Evelyn's feelings for Charles. Once Dahlia told Sena that Charles had built Debbie's Garden for her, Sena confronted Evelyn, and told her that even before finding Dahlia, Charles had already created this place for her, showcasing how much he loved Dahlia.

Evelyn had never been to this place before and was unfamiliar with it. Her eyes scanned the area and spotted a small garden with a washbasin nearby. She walked over and turned on the cold water, splashing it onto her face. In the freezing weather, she shivered. Her hands were numb, but the alcohol's hold on her didn't loosen. If anything, the cold air made her dizziness worse.

She hadn't expected the last drink Grace gave her to hit so hard. Evelyn shook her head, trying to clear her vision. Her mind was alert, but her feet felt unsteady, making it impossible for her to hail a cab. Leaning against the washbasin, she eyed a resting chair not far away and silently calculated her steps.

With a determined nod, she stood straight, lifted her chin, and placed her hands at her sides. Silently, she counted, "One." She took a step, planting her foot firmly. "Two." Another step, steady.

This scene caught Charles' attention

from a few steps away, his cold

gaze softening with a hint of

amusement. He walked toward her Evelyn was lost in her world, didn't notice him and continued at a steady pace. As she was about to take the eighth step, a figure suddenly appeared in front of her,

and she bumped directly into a

warm chest.

Her nose hit the man's firm chest hard. "Ouch!" Evelyn inhaled sharply from the pain, tears welling up in her eyes. She covered her nose, frowning, and looked up at the unexpected figure, only to find herself staring into familiar eyes. It was Charles.

Evelyn froze for a moment. Wasn't

he supposed to be taking Dahlia home? Why was he here? She didn't dwell on it. She didn't want to deal

with Charles. His unwavering

tolerance for Dahlia and Dahline.ne

smug look made her path for

revenge feel impossible. The alcohol muddled her thoughts, amplifying her sense of helplessness.

She didn't even want to speak and was ready to walk past him. But as she moved, an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into his embrace. Her cheek pressed against his chest again. Dizziness washed over her, and her brow furrowed. She instinctively resisted, one hand pushing against his chest, trying to create space. Her other hand clawed at his arm around her waist. Her voice was cold. "Let go."

Charles didn't release her. Evelyn's frown deepened. "Charles, aren't you afraid someone might see us?"

They had been together for five years. Charles had never taken her out in public. It was clear he didn't want their relationship known. While with Dahlia...

"What's there to be afraid of?" Charles replied casually, his gaze dropping to Evelyn in his arms. She was glaring at him. But under the dim light, her eyes, blurred by drunkenness and tears, seemed more inviting than angry.

Charles' Adam's apple bobbed, his

gaze darkening with desire. His arm around Evelyn's waist tightened, pulling her closer. Their bodies were pressed tightly together from the waist down. They were so close that they could feel the contours of each

other's bodies through their clothes.

He leaned in, and his upper body pressed against hers. His face was near hers; his lips were almost touching hers. His breath felt warm on her face, and his voice was a husky whisper, "You know you can't handle your drinks. Why did you drink so much?" Evelyn's gaze turned colder, her tone sharp. "What's it to you?" Now, he was scolding her after she got drunk. Back in the private room, when Dahlia suddenly proposed a toast, he didn't say a word to stop it.

Evelyn tried to struggle. But, in an attempt to avoid touching Charles, she had leaned back so far that she ended up in an awkward S-shape. Now, caught in his arms, she felt like prey ensnared in a trap, unable to break free.