Chapter 84 You Have to Take Responsibility
That day, Quinley didn't return to the hospital. She went back to her apartment in the south part of the city early.
Exhaustion hit her like a tidal wave. But halfway through her sleep, Quinley was jolted awake by thunderous pounding on her door.
One knock after another, each one heavier than the last.
Quinley shuffled out of her bedroom in slippers. It was already dark, and the apartment was pitch black. She turned on the lights and went to open the door. The person outside tumbled into the room, sliding down against the door.
"Mr. Brown?" Quinley was startled.
David was completely wasted, sprawled on the floor reeking of alcohol.
"Quinny, you finally opened the door," he slurred, reaching out to grab her.
Quinley immediately stepped back, keeping a safe distance from David.
"Where do you live? I'll contact your family to pick you up."
David lay flat on his back on the floor, motionless, just staring at Quinley with a dopey grin.
"I'm not going anywhere. I want to stay here with you. Tell me, what is it about him that's better than me? Why can't you just like me?"
He was drunk and rambling nonsense. Quinley didn't know what to do with him. Throwing him out seemed too cruel, but letting him stay in her apartment alone with her was too dangerous.
After thinking it over, Quinley made her decision.
"Mr. Brown, you're drunk. I'm going to the hospital. You can rest here."
She stepped around David and headed for the door. David pointed at her retreating figure, his seductive eyes glazed over as he muttered, "I'm so good to you—why won't you like me? Do you even know Zachary? Do you think he really loves you? Let me tell you something, Quinley—you're nothing but that man's substitute. He doesn't love you. The person he loves isn't you at all..."
David's words pierced through Quinley's heart like a dagger. Being unloved was the most shameful thing of all. And this humiliation was coming from Zachary.
Quinley went downstairs and sat on a bench in the courtyard. She'd looked at that photo carefully. At first glance, she and that woman did look identical, but upon closer inspection, she could spot the differences.
Quinley had double eyelids; Susan had single eyelids. Quinley rarely laughed heartily, but Susan in the photo was beaming with crinkled eyes. Perhaps only someone who was truly loved could smile so brilliantly.
And she was just a substitute—what did that amount to?
Around midnight, Zachary called. The familiar number flashed on her screen. Quinley didn't hang up, but she didn't answer either. She still loved him, but she realized she didn't really know him anymore.
When she didn't pick up, Zachary didn't call again. Quinley just sat there until dawn.
Early the next morning, Quinley returned to her apartment. The door was ajar, unlocked. She pushed it open and heard the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen.
"Quinny, go wash your hands. I made breakfast—it's almost ready." David poked his head out of the kitchen. He was completely sober now.
Quinley noticed that David was wearing the pajamas she'd bought for Zachary. He'd only worn them once before she washed and folded them in the drawer.
Quinley rushed into the bedroom. The drawer was wide open, and the bed was a complete mess. A surge of inexplicable anger flared up inside her.
"David, please leave my home right now." She grabbed David's dirty clothes and threw them by the door, her expression stormy.
David had just finished making breakfast—he'd made congee, fried eggs, grilled the last two sausages from Quinley's fridge, and even arranged them on her Western-style plate in a smiley face pattern.
"Quinny, what's wrong? Why are you so angry?" David looked confused as he put down what he was doing and walked toward Quinley, trying to hug her without any regard for her mood.
"Please leave right now." Quinley was furious. She pointed toward the door, ordering David out.
"What's the matter? You were fine when I woke up this morning. How did one trip outside turn you into a completely different person? Didn't you say you wanted to eat my breakfast? I made it exactly how you asked. Why are you giving me attitude the moment you come back? Quinny, just tell me what I did wrong and I'll fix it!"
David put on an innocent expression with that handsome face of his. Quinley was confused by what he said. She definitely wasn't home last night, and she certainly never asked David to make breakfast. What was going on?
"Quinny, don't be mad, okay? Didn't you say last night that you'd live a good life with me from now on? We'll get our marriage certificate after breakfast. Don't worry—you've already given yourself to me, so I'll definitely take responsibility."
"David! Stop!" Quinley shouted, cutting him off.
Her eyes were filled with terror. David was giving her way too much information to process.
"Last night... I was with you?"
"Quinny, you can't sleep with someone and then pretend it never happened." David was being coy.
"I said I wanted to marry you?"
"Yeah, you brought it up first. You said you wanted us to be a real married couple. Quinny, I never expected that all your coldness toward me was just an act. Turns out you had feelings for me all along."
Quinley asked questions, and David answered them. Before she could finish questioning him, he leaned in again, trying to rest his head on Quinley's shoulder.
Quinley shoved him away without mercy. David stumbled and nearly fell.
"Quinny, you're trying to murder your husband!"
Quinley stared intensely at David. Was he lying, or had that woman impersonated her and slept with David?
"The person who spent the night with you wasn't me." Quinley declared firmly.
If David wasn't lying, then what exactly was that woman trying to accomplish? Quinley wasn't sure about her motives, but one thing was crystal clear—she absolutely couldn't fall into whatever trap that woman had set for her.
"Quinny, what's gotten into you? If it wasn't you who slept with me last night, then who was it?" David looked at Quinley suspiciously.
But she didn't want to explain further. She turned and ran out.
At the hospital, when Quinley arrived at Dennis's room, Dennis let out an excited scream.
"Quinley, how did you know I've always wanted to see my idol's perform live?" He waved a concert ticket in his hand.
After being hospitalized for so long, this was the first time Quinley had seen Dennis smile so happily. She was surprised as she took the concert ticket from Dennis's hand.
It was the most expensive VIP floor ticket—the kind Quinley could never afford to buy.
"Where did you get this ticket?" Quinley asked suspiciously.
"Did you forget? You gave it to me in an envelope last night. You told me to wait until after you left to open it, and said it was a birthday surprise. This gift is absolutely amazing—I love it so much!"
Dennis excitedly kissed the ticket over and over again. Quinley's face instantly turned deathly pale.
Honestly, she had no idea who Dennis's idol even was. Even if she did know, given her current financial situation, she would never buy Dennis such an expensive VIP ticket.
But someone had done this in her name. Why would she do such a thing?
"What's wrong? Why do you look so awful?" Dennis asked in surprise.