Chapter 8

William rubbed his forehead, frustrated yet worried. The fact that she wasn't answering made him even more anxious.

In stark contrast to William's panic was Rebecca's calm composure. She leisurely picked up her wine glass and took a small sip, then cut into the tender foie gras and scooped up the delicious seafood soup from the bowl.

"William."

Rebecca dabbed the corners of her mouth, then smiled slightly at him. "Go ahead. If something happens to her, we'll both regret it for the rest of our lives."

William clenched his fists. He'd already called eight times, and Celeste just wouldn't pick up.

Three months ago, when Celeste was first diagnosed with terminal cancer, she was devastated and attempted suicide several times. Luckily, she was stopped each time. William knew she was very capable of doing something foolish.

Besides, the message Celeste had just sent read:

[William, you've only been staying by my side out of guilt. You don't need to lie to me about working overtime. If I hadn't seen someone post on social media about running into you and Rebecca at Zenith, I would have forgotten today was your wedding anniversary. The romantic drone proposal scene was really beautiful, but it wasn't meant for me. I shouldn't ask for anything more, William. My heartache, my pain—let it all end tonight. Goodbye forever.]

"Rebecca, I'm sorry. I'll just go check on her at the hospital. Once I know she's okay, I'll come right back. Can you wait for me in the room?"

"Okay, drive carefully."

Rebecca agreed.

William reached out and pulled Rebecca close around the waist, leaned down and kissed her. "I'll be back soon."

"Okay."

William strode away. Rebecca looked at the empty seat across from her, knowing full well that he wouldn't come back, just like the past three months, no, the past five years. He had never rushed back because she was waiting.

She'd waited for him for five years. Today, she wouldn't wait anymore.

She finished her wine, picked up her coat, and grabbed her bag. But then another dish appeared before her.

"Mrs. Spencer, this is the last course—wine-braised clams."

Rebecca really had to stop herself from laughing. The waiter looked a bit confused by her reaction. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it looks delicious. But this dish came way too late. I won't be eating it."

Rebecca walked past the waiter and left.

Maybe she'd had a bit too much to drink, as Rebecca was a little unsteady on her feet. As soon as she entered the elevator, she lost her balance and bumped into someone. She touched her forehead and quickly said,

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Are you drunk?"

That voice? Rebecca sobered up quite a bit. She looked up and came face to face with that completely unlikeable face that had just mocked her!

"Why is it you again?"

Rebecca was truly disgusted. As she spoke, she waved her hand dismissively, as if the man in front of her was a ghost.

All that hand-waving made her body sway too. "These damn high heels! Can't even stand steady in them!"

With that, Rebecca took off both her heels.

Everard Whitaker's eyes narrowed slightly. He actually found her kind of cute, especially when she's drunk.

He crossed his arms. He'd been about to exit the elevator, but now he leaned leisurely against the side and asked, "First floor? Or parking garage?"

"What's it to you? Mind your own business!"

Drunk as she was, Rebecca was still on guard.

"Where's your husband? Isn't today your wedding anniversary? You two were all lovey-dovey just now, with flowers, piano, drone proposals and everything. How come you're drunk and alone now? Looking so lonely?"

Everard was just asking out of curiosity, but his questions sounded incredibly harsh to Rebecca's ears.

She pointed at Everard. "It's you! Every time I run into you, I have bad luck! Every single time I see you, my situation becomes really embarrassing!"

Everard raised an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me? You can't hold onto your husband's heart, but you're blaming me, a stranger?"

"Yes! I'm blaming you! Your energy is bad!"

Everard was completely speechless.

"Move! Don't block my way!"

Rebecca pushed Everard aside.

Rebecca looked thin, but she had quite a bit of strength. She went up to the elevator buttons and pressed the first floor.

Everard had wanted to just ignore her, but the elevator doors closed, so he continued leaning against the side, watching to see what other stupid things she might do.

Rebecca pulled out her phone and called Natalie, who answered quickly.

"Rebecca? What's up?"

"Natalie, come pick me up."

"Pick you up? Aren't you celebrating your anniversary with William today?"

Hearing this, Rebecca's composure completely crumbled. Tears poured out, and she sobbed uncontrollably. "He's a liar, Natalie. And you're not reliable either. You said I had charm, that if I seduced him he'd be hooked. Do you know that Celeste just made one phone call and he left? He just left!"

"Rebecca, where are you? I'll come get you."

Rebecca looked at the elevator, then her gaze fell on Everard. "At the hospital. I ran into that nosy doctor who eavesdropped on me again."

Everard pointed at himself and rolled his eyes skyward.

"Hospital? Why are you at a hospital? Are you sure?"

Rebecca was talking nonsense, and Natalie sounded confused.

Everard couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Rebecca's phone. Rebecca protested and tried to snatch it back, but her body tilted and she fell right into Everard's arms. He held her shoulder firmly. She tried to struggle, but his low voice stopped her and commanded.

"Stop moving!"

After muttering that, Everard spoke into the phone. "Your friend is at Zenith right now. She's drunk. How long will it take you to get here?"

"Who are you?"

"The owner of Zenith, Everard Whitaker."

Everard was a well-mannered person, even though he wasn't particularly willing to reveal his identity to strangers.

"Is my friend okay? If I come over, it'll take at least an hour. It's rush hour right now."

"In that case, I'll get her a room upstairs. She's this drunk, so she needs a place to rest."

Natalie was very grateful.

"Okay, okay. Thank you so much, Mr. Whitaker. I'll head over right now."

After hanging up, Everard looked at Rebecca, who was leaning against him and had suddenly become quiet. She wasn't throwing a drunken fit like before—just crying silently. Her tears had soaked through Everard's shirt.

The elevator had reached the first floor. Everard pressed another floor button, and the doors closed again, heading back up.

Rebecca was drunk, but she hadn't completely lost consciousness. She'd heard everything Everard said to Natalie. Perhaps that's why she stopped struggling wildly.

Even when using drunkenness as an excuse, there should be limits.