The gathering was winding down, and everyone was slightly tipsy.
Keith Donovan saw that it was about time and cleared out the irrelevant people, leaving only the three of them.
James Grant finally relented and said that once he was done with his tasks, he would arrange for Yara Reagan to meet Evelyn Clayton.
Tristan Hawthorne asked how long it would take, and James Grant gave a deadline.
In the end, the gathering couldn’t really be called a joyous one, but at least it didn’t escalate to a heated argument.
James Grant returned to the villa reeking of alcohol.
The villa was brightly lit, with only Aunt Liu bustling around in the living room.
James Grant took off his coat and, instead of going upstairs immediately, looked at Aunt Liu and softly asked, "Is she asleep?"
"Miss Clayton went up over an hour ago. I don’t know if she’s asleep." Aunt Liu handed a bottle of medicine to James Grant, "Dr. Sherman prescribed this to help Miss Clayton sleep, but she refuses to take it."
James Grant took a look at it.
It was a mild sleeping pill.
He nodded, accepted the medicine, and said he understood, then gently went upstairs.
Arriving at Evelyn Clayton’s room door, he knocked first, not expecting a response, but to his surprise, the next moment, Evelyn Clayton’s voice softly called out—
James Grant’s heart raced.
He didn’t know what was happening to him. Check latest chapters at novelFɪre.net
As he pushed the door open and entered, even the slight drunkenness he had left subsided quite a bit.
The room was dimly lit by a floor lamp, and Evelyn Clayton was leaning on the headboard, holding a tablet.
James Grant’s Adam’s apple moved as he stepped forward to see, discovering it was showing a very popular variety show at the moment.
In the quiet room, with Evelyn Clayton looking much softer, James Grant’s slightly inebriated mind almost felt a bit dreamy.
He couldn’t believe it—could Evelyn Clayton be accepting the current situation...
"What’s wrong?" Evelyn Clayton suddenly asked, furrowing her brow, "You went out drinking?"
James Grant lightly hummed in agreement, the words rolling around his mouth before he mustered the courage to ask, "Did you wait for me long?"
"Didn’t wait for you," Evelyn Clayton’s tone was indifferent, "just couldn’t sleep."
James Grant stared directly at her, pulling out the bottle of medicine he held, "It’s the sleeping pills Owen prescribed, do you want to take some?"
"I don’t want to." Evelyn Clayton said, putting the tablet aside and meeting James Grant’s gaze.
In the dim light, there was an indescribable softness in her eyes.
James Grant’s breath almost stopped.
"Let’s talk." Evelyn Clayton said, "Really talk."
James Grant felt a sourness in his heart, though his face showed nothing.
He placed the medicine bottle on the bedside table, trying his best to restrain himself, he said flatly, "Alright, what do you want to talk about?"
Evelyn Clayton spoke slowly, her tone gradually softening, "Let’s talk about when you plan to end this farce, or rather, what you want me to do so you’ll go back to being normal."
A flicker of darkness passed through James Grant’s eyes, "I don’t need you to do anything, I need you to stay by my side."
"Is that so?" Evelyn Clayton looked fixedly at James Grant, "But you make me feel like you want to take my life."
It was as if James Grant had been punched in the face; he wanted to say something but didn’t know where to start.
Evelyn Clayton continued softly, "I never imagined that those words I said back then would cause you so much harm. Because, James Grant, you never, ever, said you loved me or couldn’t live without me."
The voice of the person before him was light, but to James Grant it was deafening.
"I, never said it?" he asked with difficulty.
Evelyn Clayton nodded, incredibly calm, "Yes, never."