At five, Lariette and her colleagues clocked out. Aside from Nora and Phoebe, the others, including Howard, Benjamin and Mr. Eastwood, also joined the early dinner trip.

Principal Smith and his wife had arrived at Bella Pasta. Even though the plan was impromptu, he still managed to reserve a few tables, combining together to create a large one.

The group of teachers simply braced the cold as they strolled together to the Italian restaurant, their laughter ringing through the crisp air. The trip wouldn't take too long.

Some of the teachers lived far, but they relied on the efficient public transport system, thus they couldn't carpool or anything similar. Only a very few drove or rode motorbikes.

Lariette walked in silence as she listened to her colleagues' conversation. She clenched her hands, which were tucked into her pockets. Despite wearing gloves, a thick coat and a scarf, she still felt the chill.

'I miss him already.'

Lariette laughed at herself. She was so used to walking home while holding hands with Ruediger. She couldn't wait to spend the weekend with him.

Soon, the group arrived at the restaurant. At this time, not even half of the place was occupied by patrons. More should come soon.

"Oh~ It's so warm."

Nora exclaimed once they stepped inside Bella Pasta. The warm glow of pendant lights and the scent of garlic bread washed over them with immediate relief.

One by one, they took off their gloves, scarves and coats. The attendants helped to put them on the rack. At the same time, a host inquired if they had a prior booking.

"We're here for Mr. Smith," Howard said to the host, bringing up the principal's name.

"Please come this way, ladies and gentlemen," the host gestured politely, gesturing at one of the waiters to lead the group.

Principal Smith and Mrs. Smith waited for them on the right side of the restaurant. Four tables were joined together, with one side facing the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Let's see, who will be a drunk zombie at the end of dinner," the principal laughed merrily, clearly showing he thought the exhausted teachers were like zombies.

"I think it'll be more than one," Benjamin replied teasingly.

Soon, everyone was settled in their seats. They began with antipasti platters of olives, marinated artichokes and prosciutto.

Chatter echoed at the long table as they waited for more food to be served. Soft music played in the background, creating a harmonious ambiance in the restaurant.

Phoebe swirled her glass, her brows relaxing, "This wine will go straight to my blood. Grading error. Fair and square. My students should be grateful."

Mr. Eastwood chuckled softly, "This old bone will take coffee. I might start bringing my own coffee beans to school next week."

"Count me in," another teacher agreed, and then sighed dramatically, "I need pots of coffee to make through all this grading."

The table erupted in chuckles, all were exhausted but in a great mood.

Sharing bottles of red and white wines, they toast to celebrate the exam ending and the winter break coming soon.

Lariette was mainly a listener. She drank slowly over dinner, relishing the fine taste of wine. She rarely drank alcohol, but her tolerance was still acceptable.

Perhaps because she was in a good mood after the exam, Lariette drank her second glass. She felt the wine's warmth spread within her, making her tipsy.

Having wine when her stomach was quite empty made her tipsy quickly.

Lariette fumbled with her phone under the table to send Ruediger a message.

[Lariette: Halfway through dinner]

[Lariette: Tipsy already]

Lariette almost giggled as she thought of her man. Nora, who sat beside her, reached over and patted her back.

"Lari, you good?"

"Drunk," Lariette whispered, grinning, "I think."

Still, she pushed for the third glass as she continued eating. She couldn't help it. The taste seemed better the more she drank.

At around eight o'clock, Principal Smith announced with a smile, "Time to go, folks. Anyone needs help with transport? Especially the ladies."

"I've called a cab."

"We'll go home together."

Everyone seemed to book a ride through the e-hailing app, including those who drove to school. Because they were drunk, they could only go home and come back to pick up their cars and bikes tomorrow.

Principal Smith was satisfied. He and his wife didn't plan to leave until the female teachers safely got inside the cabs. This city was particularly safe, but better to be vigilant.

Lariette barely walked straight as she wore her coat. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were blurry, thanks to the delicious wine she had.

"My head hurts a bit," Lariette sighed while rubbing her face. She couldn't wait to get home.

"Lari, I didn't expect to see you drunk," Nora chuckled beside Lariette as they walked out, "Oh, your husband's here already."

Outside, Ruediger chatted with Principal Smith and a few other teachers he was already acquainted with.

Dressed in a thick coat, he came by trunk instead of foot. His prized navy blue truck pulled by the curb.

"Your wife's here," Principal Smith laughed softly, gesturing at Lariette with a tilt of his chin, "Help her to sober up. Haha, I wonder how many glasses she had."

Ruediger's gaze softened as he saw Lariette stagger out of the restaurant. He strode forward, catching her by the waist when she almost tripped.

"You alright?" he asked, slightly amused but also concerned. He adjusted her collar because she didn't wear her scarf this time.

She giggled, "Hehe~ My hubby's here."

The drunk Lariette clung to Ruediger, brushing her flushed face on his chest. She didn't even care about the people around them. Her action made him smile helplessly.

If they were not in public now, he would tease her and see if she would act more cutely while being drunk. Recording videos as evidence sounded good too.

Ruediger supported Lariette by the waist. He opened the truck's door with one hand, ready to help her inside. Once she was seated, he reached for the seatbelt and latched it.

"We'll go home now," Ruediger said before getting inside the truck, then his eyes landed on Mr. Eastwood, "Want a ride? We're going to the same place anyway."

"Thank you," Mr. Eastwood replied.

He actually planned to walk home because the distance was small. But the young man's offer would save his time.

Not long after, the truck moved away from the curb, joining the other vehicles on the main roads. The orange streetlamps glowed, illuminating the city.