He couldn't let Rachael be by herself, anymore. Charles was already guilty for publicly humiliating Rachael because of Vivian's ultimatum. He didn't want her grieving in her own little corner all by herself. Standing by her was, at least, the best thing he could do after all that had happened.
He had decided to go to the senator's house when Gibson informed him that Rachael had gone there with her brother, Thomas. The securities at the gate allowed him to drive in after thorough assessment. He drove into the yard.
Charles had changed into a dark blue jeans, plain yellow shirt, and a black pair of sneaker, and had used the few times he had alone to drink down a glass of Frontera before going.
He rang the doorbell. Blue, the butler, opened the door few minutes later. The man wearing his black suit and shiny leather shoes didn't crack a smile like he usually did with other guests whenever he opened the door for them.
"Hello, Mr. Blue," Charles greeted. He wanted to smile but Mr. Blue's grimace stopped him from doing so, so he surpressed the smile and sustained the stern facial expression. "How are you?" Charles asked when Mr. Blue stood looking at him without saying a word.
"Exactly how Rachael is feeling now, downhearted," he retorted, not cracking a smile.
"Mr. Blue—" Charles began.
"She's in the garden with her mom," Mr. Blue interrupted. He closed the door after speaking.
Mr. Blue had been a realist from day one. He had ways to make people feel guilty, even when they tried not to be. His facial expressions and silence pained, almost, everyone when they're in trouble, because he's a man of principles.
He could make Mr. Blue understand. Mr. Blue always gave people the attention they needed when it was needed. For now, he had to deal with the matters at hand— having everyone to stand by him.
Charles jugged down the stairs. The fragrance of flowers flew through his nostril as he walked through the corridor of flowers. He spotted Rachael and Harriet sitting around a white table having coffee in the meadow.
When the women noticed his presence, they became quiet. His aura must have ruined the happy conversation they were having prior to his arrival.
He wanted to asked how they were doing, but he already knew what their rejoinders would have been, so he remained silent, sharing the uncomfortable moment of staring at each other.
"How long do you plan on standing, Charles?" Harriet asked him, smiling like nothing had happened. Her smile eased the nervousness a bit. "Should I order tea for you?"
"I'm fine, thanks" he said, sitting down. He smiled. Charles glanced at Rachael who had been very quiet since he arrived; she kept stirring her coffee and ignoring him. "You look much better, Rachael." He kept his eyes on her.
Rachael sigh, lifted her head and faced him. "Not anymore," she said promptly, rolling her eyes back to her cup of coffee.
"Are you angry with me?" He asked her in a very, very low tone. It was almost a whisper.
Everyone sitting at the table knew that that wasn't a salient question.
"No, Charles," Rachael said, "I'm angry with myself. I'm angry with myself that I'm not mad at you when I should be." The mixed emotions was seen in her eyes when she looked up at Charles.
"I will let you guys have a time alone." Harriet was ready to get up when Rachael stopped her. She sat down and focused more on the coffee.
"No, mom, stay. It's better that you're here." Rachael put her hand over her mom's hand. "I have few questions that I want to ask Charles."
Charles wasn't ready for interrogations. It was better that things stayed the way they did. That way, nobody would get hurt in the end. All of them were already hurt in their own way; there was no need to add to the agony.
"Rich," Charles began, "I promise to make you understand what is going on at the right time. I can't tell you now because you won't understand."
"I don't want to understand. All I want to know is what I'm putting myself into. How can I stand by you when I don't know the reason I'm standing by you?" Rachael stated.
"Because you love me," Charles responded.
"Don't insult my love for you," she warned him. "We would have been husband and wife by now if that woman hadn't shown up. Is this exactly what you were going to do— hide things from me— if we'd gotten married?" Rachael sounded very natural. She was maintaining her calmness.
Charles became mute. He wish he hadn't declined the offer Harriet had given. A bottle of water would have been good. He should have asked for water instead.
Rachael wasn't done with speaking out her mind. She couldn't do that at the church. "How do you expect me to support you when you are not helping me? You just want me to wait for the right time? What if it's a decade from now?"
"A month or two is all I'm asking for. Please be patient," he pleaded with her.
"We wouldn't have been having this conversation if I wasn't patient. Charles, I don't know how long I'll keep being patient. It bothers me every second that you have a secret that you aren't brave enough to tell me. Telling secret should be mutual between couples." Rachael intertwined her fingers and placed them on the table. She leaned on the table.
Harriet swallowed unnoticeably after what Rachael said sank in her soul. She— in some ways— saw herself having similar characteristics as Charles. Both of them had secrets that they weren't brave to tell their partners.
Rachael was unknowingly referring to the both of them.
"Let me ask you one question Charles," Rachael broke the silence that had been in their midst. They waited for the question that Rachael was preparing for Charles. "Would you have done what I'm doing if it had been me in your shoes?"
'No,' he said to himself. He didn't know what he would have done if a man had did what Vivian did. He probably would have left without looking back.
"Answer me, Charles. Would you?" she asked again.
"I don't know," he said honestly.
Rachael glanced, anger flowing throw her veins. She got up and left.
Charles wanted to go after her, he wanted to hold her close to him and tell her how much he loves her, but Harriet held his hand when he was about to leave.
"Let her be for now."