CHAPTER 208: CHAPTER 208: I’M NOT DRUNK

Lily handed her the car keys: "I’ll take you downstairs. Call me if you need anything."

"Okay, you guys have fun. Just put it all on my tab," Florence Fuller replied.

Lily accompanied her all the way down to the car, and Florence was unusually calm, which made her feel that the calmness was excessive.

But perhaps in this situation, she really needed some time alone.

Florence drove out of the company, and on the road, she couldn’t help but speed up hastily. As she gradually calmed down, she felt something was wrong, and after parking the car on the roadside, she touched her face—it was wet with tears.

When Ethan Harper heard about her marriage, did he feel the same as she did now?

A stabbing and suffocating feeling in her heart, she lowered the car window, and the cold wind poured in.

It had been four months since Ethan Harper left.

Outside, it seemed to be starting to rain gradually. Florence wiped away the tears from her face and made a phone call.

"Hey, what’s up, boss?" Samuel Morrison’s voice came garbled through.

"I wanted to ask you something," Florence replied calmly.

"Let me rinse my mouth, I just got up," came the sound of water gurgling, then he said, "Go ahead."

"Ethan Harper... is he married?"

Samuel was taken aback. He didn’t really know what kind of relationship Florence had with the chairman of the Polaris Consortium, but Florence had previously asked him to look into this man, and later, the chairman himself also inquired about how Florence’s assets were being managed, urging him to do well and keep his eyes open, seemingly afraid that he would lose Florence’s fortune.

However, indeed, at a reception held some time ago, Old Mr. Harper had intentions of arranging a marriage alliance with another family for him, and he admitted in public that he was married.

Then a month later, he held a private reception, invited only a few people, and was very secretive about the bride. Ethan Harper wished for everyone to be low-key and not speculate about his newlywed wife, not wanting anyone to discuss her.

So, there were speculations that Mr. Harper’s wife did not come from a wealthy background, and Old Mr. Harper was reportedly quite furious about it.

"Yes, he said it himself at the previous reception. Later, he hosted a small private reception, not many people attended, and the Harper family was unwilling to disclose information about the bride, but those who went to the reception all said the bride was very beautiful."

Samuel answered truthfully.

Florence felt a tremor in her heart, a string of tears fell, and she replied calmly, "I see."

She hung up the phone.

The rain intensified, pattering down.

Florence wiped her tears, started the car again, and merged into the rainy night.

She drove aimlessly, eventually stopping at a club, handing the car over to a valet, and asked for a private room once she went inside.

Looking dazed, she bumped into someone upon entering the elevator and apologized, and that person called her "sister-in-law."

Florence glanced at him, feeling her vision was so blurred she couldn’t make out the person’s face.

The private room was wide and spacious, with only her in it.

She didn’t bother pouring the wine into a glass, instead, she drank directly from the bottle, the spicy liquid burned down her throat, as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Her feelings at that moment were no different from when Ethan Harper left without a word.

But why did she have to know about this? She hated herself for having such emotions.

The man who once promised to be with her for a lifetime was no longer hers.

Liar.

When Luke Gardiner arrived, he quietly pushed the door open. Inside the silent, spacious room, he heard a girl’s soft sobbing.

He saw Florence collapsed in front of the wine table, weeping, and felt an indescribable heartache and blockage in his chest, so he gently closed the door and waited outside.

Daniel Knight had said he saw Florence here, and she seemed to have cried, but Luke didn’t believe him.

But later, he recalled Ethan Harper’s wedding, and he believed it and came.

He had always been attentive to Florence’s movements. He heard that for the last two weeks, she had been busy with releasing and acquiring new jewelry, practically living at the company, and he wondered if she didn’t care at all about Ethan Harper getting married?

He thought she might fly to France and question Ethan Harper about his marriage.

However, she didn’t.

She was suffering on her own.

Luke waited outside the door for a long time, thinking it was almost time to take her home. He pushed open the door to find that Florence, who had been crying by the table, had now passed out on the sofa, still holding an unfinished bottle of wine.

Luke walked over and softly called her, "Florence."

The person lying there didn’t move.

"Florence."

Thinking she had passed out from drinking, Luke had no choice but to reach out to carry her, "I’ll take you home."

But as soon as he touched her, Florence pushed his hand away, opened her blurry eyes, her cheeks flushed, and muttered in a daze, "Don’t touch me."

"It’s late, and it’s raining heavily outside," Luke said gently, looking at the person on the sofa, "I’ll take you home."

He reached to take the bottle from Florence’s hand, but to his surprise, she sat up with a jolt, took a gulp, and said, "Don’t touch my wine."

Luke glanced at the table, no wonder she was this drunk; there were quite a few empty bottles.

Luke stood up, "Alright, alright, you can take it with you, okay."

Florence frowned, "Go? Go where? Who are you?"

"I’m your husband!" Luke replied.

Florence made a sound of surprise, "But I remember we didn’t get married, Ethan Harper!"

Luke felt a sharp pain in his heart, "Look closely, I’m not Ethan Harper!"

"Why are you getting angry? Didn’t you say you’d never be mad at me?" Florence complained, "Liar."

Then she sat back down on the cushion on the floor and continued drinking, looking very sorrowful.

Luke felt both heartache and found her cute, crouching beside her, "Alright, I’m wrong, okay? Let me take you home, you’re already drunk."

"I’m not drunk!" She got up in a flash, "I’ll show you."

She stood up straight and began to walk forward. Luke then noticed she wasn’t wearing shoes, hurriedly found her high heels, and, lifting her, carried her sideways, "Okay, okay, I’m the drunk one, I’m the drunkard."

Florence giggled twice, happily took another gulp of wine.

Luke carried her to his car, placed her in the back seat, then returned to the driver’s seat, "Taking you home, which floor is it again?"

Not hearing her answer, he only heard the sound of her drinking, followed by a satisfied sigh. Then Florence, holding the bottle, suddenly moved forward, close to him, "I finished it!"

Luke looked at her drunken state, amused, couldn’t help but stroke her face, "Drunk, how truly adorable."

"Me?" She giggled, cradling her face, "How beautiful am I?"

"The most beautiful, absolutely stunning, no one can compare to you," Luke said, looking at her.

"Oh my," she bashfully showed drunken embarrassment.