I followed the navigation and drove onto the main road, fixing my eyes on the road ahead.
It was as if the person sitting beside me was nothing more than an ordinary passenger.
Her breathing was light, and she hesitated several times as if wanting to speak.
Her fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of her skirt—a gesture I knew all too well. It meant she was struggling intensely inside.
"Charles..." She finally spoke again. "How are you doing now?"
I kept my gaze forward, maintaining a professional smile. "Pretty good. Plain and ordinary."
Driving, eating, sleeping—no ups and downs.
"It's the life I want."
"You're lying!" She retorted immediately, turning her head to stare at my profile.
"How could you possibly get used to this? Don't you know what kind of life you used to live?"
"There were drivers to take you everywhere, custom-made clothes, and even the water you drank had to be airlifted from abroad."
"Now you're driving a ride-hailing car and living..."
She stopped short and didn't finish the sentence.
But the pity and disbelief hidden in those unfinished words were painfully clear.
I smiled, but didn't respond.