Chapter 45
The car was warm inside. Winter had taken off her coat at the club, and even though she was dressed lightly, Chris had wrapped her tightly in his overcoat. She didn’t feel cold at all.
The warmth soaked into her, and the alcohol hit her all at once.
After blurting out that question, her head started to sway. Then a large, firm hand came up behind her head and gently guided her to lean back.
Her head rested lightly against Chris’s chest. Her cheeks were flushed, and in the dim light, her long lashes looked heavy and damp, as if she had been weeping in her sleep.
She kept mumbling the same word, over and over.
“Divorce… divorce p>
“Just how much did you drink?” His voice was low, almost a rumble.
Winter’s eyes drooped as she muttered something under her breath.
“What did you say?” he asked.
Chris pinched her chin and lifted her face. “You can’t even get your words out straight, and you’re still talking nonsense p>
To his surprise, she slapped his hand away. Her head bobbed up and down like a pecking chick.
“Did I give you permission to touch me?” she protested. “Do you even know who I am?
“I am Winter Scott, Senior Journalist for the Liono City News Department.
“And my buddy… no, wait. My bestie won Best Actor. Best Actor, okay? The Zeller heir. So ridiculously hot p>
Chris’s expression darkened. He caught her chin again. “And who else are you p>
Leaning against his chest, she spoke in a low, unsteady voice.
“I’m Chris Xander’s wife.
“But we’re about to get divorced p>
The last words dissolved into a broken, tearful sound.
The car drove smoothly for more than ten minutes, leaving the noise of the city behind.
Winter lay quietly against him now. She didn’t talk or fuss.
Chris took off his glasses and set them aside. He looked down at the half–asleep woman in his arms.
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Chapter 45
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The hand resting at the back of her head paused slightly.
After a moment, his fingers moved.
He brushed her flushed cheek lightly.
Winter felt a faint itch on her face. When she shifted, it disappeared, as if it had only been her imagination.
She shook her head and looked up at him. His sharp jawline was right in front of her.
Above it were pale, thin lips.
A straight, elegant nose.
And deep–set eyes that seemed to hold countless secrets, like a dark abyss.
One careless step, and you could fall in, never to return.
This face.
This man.
She had loved him for so many years. And in the end, her only way to even hate him was to flee like a coward. To leave the country and get as far away from him as possible.
She had loved him for so many years. In the end, even when it came to hating him, the only thing she could do was choose the most humiliating way out. She would leave the country and run from any place
where he existed.
The corners of her eyes, already flushed from the alcohol, grew even redder.
“Well?” she demanded, her breath thick with wine. “Why aren’t you saying it? Is the word divorce really
that hard for you p>
She lifted her hand and poked his chest with her index finger. Once. Then again. Each word came with another jab.
“Come on. I’ll teach you. DIVORCE. Say it p>
Chris lowered his gaze to the pale finger pressing against his chest. His eyes darkened. When she jabbed him one last time, he caught her finger in his hand.
“Are you done?” he asked quietly.
She tried to pull her hand free, but his grip didn’t loosen. Her temper flared.
“Can you act like a man for once?” she shot back.
His jaw tightened.
“So I can’t perform,” he said hoarsely, his voice rough in his throat. “And that’s why you want a divorce p>
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Chapter 45
Alcohol truly loosened tongues in the worst ways.
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Florence
A passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.