Free Web NovelChapter 170: Chapter 170 Breakdown
Christina’s POV
Ysolde was curled into the corner of a sofa, clutching a half-empty bottle of liquor.
Still wearing her boots, legs sprawled across the cushions.
One strap of her dress had slipped down her shoulder.
The air smelled of spilled tequila, dried lime, and perfume that had lost its fragrance an hour ago.
I dimmed the lights and crossed the room.
Dozens of bottles were scattered around her, some standing, most rolled to the edge of the coffee table.
I crouched down and gently nudged her upright.
Her head drooped forward.
I patted her cheek lightly.
"Come on, I’m taking you home. Can you open your eyes?"
My fingers touched her skin, which felt like it was burning.
Her eyelashes fluttered, then she opened one eye, blinking hard.
"Chrissy?" she slurred, "Why are there two of you?"
"Because you’re drunk. I’m taking you home."
"No! I’m not leaving!" She lunged suddenly for the table. "I’m still drinking!"
I caught her wrist, pulling the glass away from her reach. "You’re done, that’s it."
She tried to grab it back twice, then gave up, slumping down.
A second later, she started crying.
"Cassian Langford, you absolute bastard!" Ysolde cursed. "You think I’m just some toy you can discard whenever you want?"
Her sobs grew louder in the dim private room of Riley’s bar.
I crouched beside her and wrapped my arms around her trembling body, rubbing her back gently.
I couldn’t find the right words to comfort her. Some hurts can only be fixed by the person going through them. During those years when I was engaged to Niall, I’d spent so many nights crying like a fool, desperately looking for proof that he loved me, but I never found it.
The moment when you finally wake up only takes a second, but that second comes after so much disappointment piling up over time.
"Yes, Cassian is a complete jerk," I said softly. "Let’s cry this out one last time, then no more tears, okay? I’ll take you home, Ysolde."
Her tears wouldn’t stop. She cried hysterically, her body shaking with each sob.
I kept wiping her tears away with tissues, feeling helpless.
When we’d left the wedding earlier, Ysolde had maintained a perfect smile.
Now here she was—alone, face flushed red, trembling uncontrollably, drunk out of her mind in a darkened bar corner.
I fought back the sting in my throat and sat beside her, letting her scream and cry and curse his name over and over. I didn’t interrupt. I knew she needed this release.
"How could he!" she screamed between sobs. "Parading those two women in front of me like trophies. Goddess, I was so blind, so stupid. Why did I ever fall for him?"
She took a shuddering breath. "I curse him! Even if he kneels before me one day and kisses the dust off my feet, I will never forgive him!"
"Go to hell!" she shrieked, her voice growing hoarser with each word.
After fifteen minutes of this, Ysolde finally exhausted herself. Mid-curse, her voice suddenly gave out, and she slumped sideways onto the cushions, passing out.
I called for the server.
Riley rushed over, and together we managed to carry Ysolde to the backseat of my car. I called a driver and sat beside her, giving him her address and instructing him to keep the heat low—she always overheated when drinking.
By the time we reached her place, her head was resting on my shoulder, her eyeliner smudged onto my sleeve.
Getting her upstairs was a serious workout.
I managed to get her onto the bed without knocking over any lamps, then collapsed on the floor, breathing hard. My sweater was soaked with sweat underneath.
My phone rang.
"Where are you?" Hudson asked. "You’re not home."
"I’m with Ysolde. She’s wasted. I’m staying here tonight." I quickly explained the situation, then hung up.
A minute later, my phone lit up again.
Unknown number.
I stared at the screen, assuming it was Niall calling from a new number, and ignored it.
I stood up and headed to the kitchen for water.
The phone rang again. Same number.
I walked into the hallway, closed the door behind me, and finally answered.
"Hello?"
Instead of Niall’s voice, I heard a woman.
"Hello there, I’m Gwendolyn Laurent."
Well, that was unexpected. freёwebnovel.com
Gwendolyn was Hudson’s father’s wife—his stepmother, technically. I’d met her once.
I had no idea why she would be calling me.
"Hello," I said, trying to sound normal.
"Ah, Christina!" Her voice was warm, almost unnaturally so. "I know it’s a bit late to call, but I didn’t want to forget, so I thought I’d better do it quickly. You know how scatterbrained I can be."
She laughed.
I didn’t. I was busy trying to remember when I’d given her my number.
"Anyway, since you and Hudson have been married for a while now, perhaps it’s time for the whole family to sit down for a proper meal."
Hudson hadn’t looked happy during our last visit to the Sabreridge pack house.
Gwendolyn continued talking.
"Hudson has never been close with me. I’ve gotten used to it. But his grandfather’s health is deteriorating, and no matter how many calls we make, he won’t come home. His father misses him. Edouard misses him too. It’s been so long."
I understood her point.
"If you want him to come for dinner, I can mention it. But whether he agrees isn’t up to me."
"Don’t bring it up directly," she quickly interjected. "If we ask him outright, he’ll refuse. He always does, thinking it’s pointless."
She paused.
"Tomorrow is his birthday. I thought perhaps we could use that as an opportunity to celebrate properly, sit down together, and get everything back on track."
"Tomorrow is his birthday?" The words slipped out before I realized my mistake.
"Yes, he doesn’t like celebrating his birthday. Or perhaps he just doesn’t like celebrating it with me." She gave a self-deprecating laugh.
"He’s always kept his distance from us. I’ve never been able to change that. But tomorrow is a family day. We’re all getting older, Christina—me, his father, his grandfather. We don’t have ulterior motives. We just want peace at the dinner table. That’s all."
