Just as Dean Dawson was about to put Claire Hale into the car, the person in his arms suddenly struggled restlessly, almost falling out of his embrace.
Tristan Lockwood quickly supported her waist, and Claire Hale barely managed to stand steadily.
However, in just a few seconds, she fell back into his arms, instinctively wrapping her arms around his waist.
Tristan Lockwood’s body stiffened.
In truth, he didn’t want to take advantage of her, but his body’s response was sothing he couldn’t control.
Moreover, her small hands were truly restless, exploring up and down like a curious kitten.
Unable to resist, Tristan Lockwood grabbed her hand and said in a deep voice, "Don’t touch around."
Claire Hale paused.
She slowly raised her head. She couldn’t quite see the person’s appearance before her but, slling his cool scent, she subconsciously asked, "Are you Tristan Lockwood?"
She was really drunk.
She didn’t even recognize him.
"It’s ," Tristan Lockwood said.
"No, you aren’t him."
Claire Hale shook her head, backed up two steps, trying to free herself from him.
Tristan Lockwood pulled her back into his arms, "How am I not him?"
"He doesn’t want anymore; he wouldn’t take care of ."
"How have I not taken care of you?"
Like picking up a kitten, Tristan Lockwood pinched the back of her neck.
"Helping you reconnect those broken relations, don’t you know how much thought I put into it?"
And it was still under the circumstances where she first misunderstood him.
Only he knew how angry he was then, wishing he could throw her on the car and tornt her fiercely, making her cry and apologize to him.
"Back when you wanted to open an office in Riverbend, the startup funds and initial connections, I set it up for you. And you, turning hostile without recognizing , whenever there was trouble, you’d pin it on ."
Admittedly, there were tis his intention was to punish her by deliberately creating obstacles for her.
But those tis were because she argued with him, with her cold attitude, showing no gratitude towards him, saying things that chilled his heart, that he conceived that thought.
Claire Hale lowered her head, and when Tristan Lockwood looked down, he only saw her fuzzy head, not knowing if she truly listened to his words.
Regardless, whether she listened or not, it didn’t matter to him.
She had misunderstood him so many tis; a few more wouldn’t be a big deal.
As he was about to put her in the car, Claire Hale suddenly raised her head, said, "I’m sorry."
To make her apologize was truly harder than the sun rising in the west.
Tristan Lockwood paused, emotions swirling in his eyes.
He pinched her chin, staring into her mist-filled eyes, earnestly asking, "Did you recognize ?"
Claire Hale couldn’t quite discern the person in front; her head ached with bloated pain.
With the light and shadows intertwining around, she thought she was in a bizarre dream, thus speaking on her own, "About the incident a few days ago, sorry for misunderstanding you."
Saying this, she dejectedly lowered her head.
"When I ca looking for you that day, the real intention was to seek your help. But upon seeing you, I felt I had no stance to ask for help, so I asked those questions instead."
The more she spoke, the softer her voice beca.
Her body also grew softer and softer.
Eventually, she squatted directly on the ground, hugging her knees, whispering softly, "But you didn’t give a chance to explain and just kicked out of the car. It’s not the first ti you’ve kicked out; last ti because of Jade Sutton, you kicked out of the car too. Tristan Lockwood, you have no idea how upset I get after you leave behind."
The more Claire Hale spoke, the more she felt aggrieved, tears silently stread down, and she thought of things from long ago, "That Christmas, I waited for you in the snow for a long ti even though we had plans, but you never showed up."
"On my eighteen birthday, I waited for you the entire night. You promised you’d return, yet there wasn’t even a single call from you. I just wanted you to say ’happy birthday,’ but there was nothing."
Perhaps thinking she was in a dream, Claire Hale kept speaking,
"When it ca to marrying , you had a look of complete unwillingness. Clearly, the first ti, you also felt great, but after putting on your pants, you denied it. You scoundrel."
"And those letters..."
She hugged her knees, feeling sowhat cold, and Tristan Lockwood squatted down, lifted her by the waist, leaned against the car, and bent down to kiss her ears which were red as blood.
"What happened on Christmas was my fault." He held her waist and bit her chin softly. "That day, I had an accident because I was using my left hand on the operating table. My professor rebuked , saying I was unworthy of being a doctor. I truly had no mood for Christmas."
He paused and when he lifted his eyes, he noticed hers half-closed, not knowing if she was listening to his words.
"On your eighteenth birthday, I couldn’t get through to you because I was on the plane rushing back. In the later hours, you hugged on the street saying you liked , but when I saw you again, you didn’t acknowledge it, flipping one-eighty."
Talking about this, a trace of grievance that even he hadn’t realized crept into Tristan Lockwood’s voice.
"And about marriage, you clearly said with conviction that you didn’t like ."
Every ti he tried to get closer to her, he was coldly pushed away.
He, too, was human, had emotions, naturally couldn’t keep pursuing her relentlessly.
When Tristan Lockwood lifted his eyes again, Claire Hale had, at so point, looped her arms around his neck, intending to move in for a kiss.
He certainly wouldn’t refuse.
However, when he slled the alcohol on her breath, Tristan Lockwood found it overwhelming, turning his face away.
Claire Hale’s lips landed on his cheek.
Her lips were cold, like ice cream, wet and soft.
Being teasingly provoked by her made Tristan Lockwood’s entire body burn, but facing a drunk person, he truly didn’t want to act on it.
He felt sowhat agitated, considering perhaps handling it directly in the car.
However, Claire Hale suddenly gagged, retching.
Before Tristan Lockwood could react, she vomited all over him.
His face darkened, backing up two steps imdiately. With no support from him now, she slowly slid to the ground.
Afraid she might hurt herself, he resisted and supported her again.
Claire Hale gagged once more.
This ti, Tristan Lockwood was clearly no longer inclined for that kind of thing, he removed his jacket and tossed it into the trash can, then like holding a kitten, dragged Claire Hale into the car’s back seat.
After vomiting, Claire Hale felt less discomfort in her stomach, though her head still throbbed. Lying on the soft back seat, she soon fell asleep.
Upon waking, she had no recollection of the events from the night before.
Her mory was still stuck at the mont when she exited the bathroom, catching Dean Dawson staring at her like a predatory wolf.
After that, she only rembered soone started fighting before her.
However, upon noticing her surroundings, she instantly realized the person fighting with Dean Dawson was Tristan Lockwood.
Because the room was the one she had previously lived in at the villa.
Last night, Tristan Lockwood had brought her back to their old ho.
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