The Cherished Wife by Chweety

Charles waved his hand dismissively. "No need. I'll go upstairs later. Just have someone prepare some tea. Do we still have this year's new tea?"

"Yes, we do," the butler, James, replied with a delighted expression. "I'll prepare it right away and bring it up to you shortly, Mr. Charles!"

Charles nodded and turned to find a seat far from Clarisse. "Why did you come back this time, Mother?"

Clarisse's expression changed slightly, but she quickly regained her composure. "What do you mean by that? This is still my home. Do I need to report to you when I come back?"

Charles' thin lips curved into a slight smile, his eyes carrying a hint of coldness. His relaxed posture contrasted starkly with Clarisse's proper and reserved demeanor.

Her expression darkened, and she felt powerless about her son's attitude toward her. She could not pinpoint when this change had occurred, but by the time she noticed, it was already too late to reverse it. "Charlie, I'm still your mother!" Clarisse exclaimed.

Charles interrupted, "I never said you weren't. How long do you plan to stay this time, Mother?"

expression changed again. Even Janet, who was sitting beside her, could sense her anger. How could Charles not

on the armrest of the couch as his sharp eyes grew cold. "After all, your real home

me like this? You

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to dwell on

felt helpless. "You're my son. Do I need a reason to come

his lips together. "Have you seen me enough now, Mother? I'm doing fine." He stood up. "I need to go upstairs to

rarely visit Capiton, so she came to see you because

Charles and reached out to grab his hand, but he swiftly dodged her. His piercing gaze fell on her, as if he could see right through her.

"Charles, what's going on with you? Aunt Clary is your. mother How can you speak to her like this? You weren't like

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matter of the Hoffman