CHAPTER 24: CHAPTER 24: TAKING CARE OF A DRUNKEN EUGENE VAUGHN

It’s late at night.

The party has ended, and the guests are leaving one after another.

After socializing all evening, the elders of the Vaughn Family are so exhausted they can’t even straighten up and each return to their rooms to rest.

Victoria Sinclair helped her grandmother back to her room. After chatting for a while, she came out to find only a few waitstaff swiftly cleaning up under Auntie Rose’s direction in the banquet hall.

Jenny Vaughn stormed down from upstairs, shouting as she walked, "He’s so heavy, Auntie Rose, go take care of my brother, he’s drunk."

"I’m still busy here," Auntie Rose turned her head, glancing at Victoria Sinclair, "Isn’t your sister-in-law here? Let her take care of him first."

Jenny Vaughn came downstairs and saw Victoria Sinclair coming out of her grandmother’s room, with a slightly displeased tone, "Being a wife like you, not even helping your husband when he’s drunk like a log, leaving it to me, his cousin, that’s really something."

Victoria Sinclair initially planned to leave, but now that Jenny Vaughn had shown up and complained, she thought leaving now would earn her even harsher words.

Jenny Vaughn couldn’t hold back her anger, placing her hands on her hips, "I’m calling you sister-in-law, what are you standing there for, go and take care of your husband!"

Auntie Rose chimed in, "Victoria, don’t go home tonight. I’ve always cleaned Eugene’s room. The bedding is fresh, and there’s sleepwear for both of you in the closet. Stay at home tonight."

Jenny Vaughn shook her sore arm, sat on the sofa, crossed her legs, and began scrolling through videos on her phone.

Victoria Sinclair, feeling heavy in her heart, went upstairs.

She knew where Eugene Vaughn’s room was, but she had never gone inside before.

She pushed the door open, finding the lights on inside.

Victoria Sinclair stepped in and closed the door behind her.

The room’s decor looked slightly outdated, but it was clean and tidy, very spacious and comfortable.

A large desk without any clutter on it, and beside it, a big bookshelf filled with a variety of books.

There was a separate wardrobe and bathroom; the balcony door was closed, and the curtains were light blue.

The large double bed was in the middle, and Eugene Vaughn was lying across it motionless with his arms and legs spread out.

Victoria Sinclair didn’t immediately tend to him but instead took a leisurely stroll around Eugene Vaughn’s room,

In these two years of marriage, she had never entered Eugene Vaughn’s old room.

She walked to the bookshelves and took a look, finding that the books he read were quite varied, with many related to economics and management.

A corner with an old book caught Victoria Sinclair’s attention.

"Clinical Pharmacology"?

Why would Eugene Vaughn’s bookshelf have a pharmacology book?

Victoria Sinclair pulled out the book and casually opened it.

Upon seeing it, she broke out in goosebumps.

Inside were all her handwriting, those familiar notes made by her own hand.

She quickly turned to the first page.

"Victoria Sinclair" — the handwriting she couldn’t be more familiar with.

It was a book from her university days.

Victoria Sinclair felt a chill down her back, her heart racing as she tried to recall if she had somehow brought it along with her after the marriage.

If she had brought it, it should logically be on their bookshelf at home; why was it here?

Perhaps she did bring it along.

There’s no more logical explanation than that.

Victoria Sinclair put the book back in its place.

Turning around, she walked to the side of the big bed and stood there.

This was the first time she’d observed Eugene Vaughn sleeping so closely.

Even though he was drunk, her heart was still pounding, feeling nervous, her face warming, and a bit at a loss on how to take care of him.

Helping him with a bath was definitely out of the question.

But she could make him sleep a bit more comfortably.

Victoria Sinclair took off her high heels, climbed onto the bed, and knelt, using all her strength to tug at Eugene Vaughn’s clothes, trying to pull him to the center.

She didn’t know if she was too weak or if Eugene Vaughn was too heavy.

But he wouldn’t budge an inch.

Victoria Sinclair was left breathless from exhaustion.

She gave up on the dragging idea, kneeling beside him to loosen his tie.

Then she tried to remove his suit jacket, which was difficult since he was lying flat, requiring her to push his body to one side to remove one sleeve, then push him to the other side.

Repeating this process, she was already worn out by the time she removed the jacket.

She never knew that a drunk person could be so heavy and sleep so soundly.

Victoria Sinclair tossed the clothes onto the floor, then lifted Eugene Vaughn’s wrist to remove his watch.

When her fingertips felt the distinct bones of his large hand, she paused slightly, a string in her heart inexplicably tugged.

A wave of unexplainable sourness welled up inside.

She recalled their first date after being introduced, both quite satisfied with each other, and went to the cinema that evening.

In the dim-lit cinema, Eugene Vaughn secretly held her hand, giving her a start.

The nervous and shy thrill of that moment was something she would never forget in her lifetime.

Throughout the whole movie, she only felt her heartbeat racing, nerves stretched tight, palm sweating, oblivious to the movie’s content itself.

She asked, "Aren’t we progressing too fast?"

Eugene Vaughn replied with exceptional tenderness, "No, we’re heading towards marriage."

Back then, she was very shy, saying, "I hope to keep intimate things for after we’re married; before marriage, holding hands should be the limit."

Eugene Vaughn said, "I respect that."

She thought marriage would mark the beginning of happiness.

She didn’t expect that her love would last just three short months before marriage marked its end.

Eugene Vaughn never held her hand again, let alone any intimate gestures.

Victoria Sinclair placed his watch on the bedside table, lowering her eyes to avoid reminiscing about his warm hands.

Her nose tingled again, her heart aching in waves.

If only she hadn’t fallen for Eugene Vaughn, how great that would be!

She wouldn’t have so much expectation and consequently so much pain like now.

Victoria Sinclair climbed down from the bed, helping him remove his shoes and socks, then knelt beside him again, unfastening his belt.

Because of the man’s reclining position.

She didn’t realize being drunk could still cause a reaction, yet her cheeks were veritably hot to the point of burning, her gaze unable to settle, nervously extracting his belt with gritty determination.

After finishing everything, she was spent from tension.

Feeling utterly depleted.

She laid down beside Eugene Vaughn, quietly gazing at his sharply defined profile.

His skin wasn’t particularly fair but very clean, with dense eyebrows, deep eyes, a high nose bridge, sexy thin lips, and a jawline that was perfectly chiseled.

As if under some supernatural force, she couldn’t help but reach out, gently touching his jaw.

Her fingers felt the subtle and faint stubble on his cheek, soft rather than prickly.

Eugene Vaughn had no reaction.

Her fingers grew bolder, lightly touching the man’s thin lips.

The warm, soft sensation was electrifying, pulsing back from her fingertips, spreading through her limbs and bones, tense and tingling throughout.

Her breath became uneven, cheeks hot, nervously swallowing.

A strange sense of shame washed over her, and just as she was about to withdraw her hand, Eugene Vaughn suddenly reached out, grasping her wrist.

Startled, she froze, her heart pounding like a drum, her hand lightly trembling.

With bleary eyes, Eugene Vaughn squinted and turned to look at her, stared at her for a few seconds, then closed his eyes, his hoarse voice achingly low in a drunken wandering state of self-denial, "I’m really crazy."