Chapter 43 Chapter 43
She drank the ice water quickly, pushed the empty glass aside, and poured herself another drink. "But let's get this over with quickly." As she spoke, her head drooped lower, as if she could barely sit upright anymore. The straight spine she had before was gone; now, most of her weight rested against the bar counter.
With immense effort, she managed a faint smile and asked, "When will our game end?"
Unlike the previous two questions, he couldn't answer immediately this time. He remained silent until she propped her chin in her hand and leaned over to look at him. Only then did he reply, "I don't know."
She froze for a moment, then chuckled. Her trembling hand reached for the third glass. Just as it touched her lips, his hand closed around it. His fingers gripped the stem firmly and wrenched the glass from her grasp. "This drink is mine," he said coldly.
With that, he tilted his head back and downed the drink.
She looked at him; perhaps the alcohol showed in her unguarded surprise. "Are you lying?" she asked.
He didn't answer, his brow furrowing slightly as he seemed to grow displeased. "Grace, have you had too much to drink?"
"No, I haven't." She waved her hand in denial. Clearly drunk, she reached out again, struggling to grab another glass. Slurring her words, she said, "The next question is, Benjamin, how can you end this game?"
Seeing her like this, he sneered, "How is that any different from the last question?"
"Huh? No difference?" she asked sluggishly. After a long pause, she continued, "All right then, let's change it again. How far does this game need to go before you'll be satisfied?"
He was clearly angry now, pursing his lips and glaring at her coldly. He refused to answer.
"Oh, is that not good enough? Do we need to change the question again?" She asked softly, slumping weakly against the bar. Burying her head, she murmured to herself, "But I just want to know the answer to this question, Benjamin. I really do want to know. I can barely hold on anymore. I can't keep going. The phrase I repeat to myself most every day is, 'Don't lose your mind. Whatever you do, don't lose your mind.'"
Her head remained bowed, her face hidden from him. Yet, from her weak, low murmur, he suspected she might be crying. Sure enough, the next second, he heard her sniffle. Then, he listened as she continued her soliloquy.
"I never did anything wrong. Not since I was a child. I studied hard, treated people kindly, and lived happily. Benjamin, what did I do wrong to deserve your vengeance? Oh, I remember now—I did do one wrong thing. I stopped my car to help a stranger and ended up killing someone. I'd never even killed a chicken before, but I stabbed someone to death. Since then, I've had endless nightmares. Every time I close my eyes, I see nothing but blood.”
Her laughter grew hoarse and turned into a coughing fit. Her body curled into a shrimp-like shape, yet she couldn't stop. At first, he merely watched, but as he looked on, something possessed him. He reached out to pat her back gently, then sneered, "With that kind of tolerance, you still dare play this game? You're stupid enough."
Tears still filled her eyes, streaking her flushed cheeks. She clamped her hand over her mouth, but a muffled groan escaped her lips. "I need to throw up."
He froze for a second, then stood up and dragged her toward the bathroom. Her legs were so weak, though, that she couldn't stand. She swayed from side to side, utterly unable to walk. He simply wrapped his arm around her waist, hoisted her up, and carried her toward the bathroom. Seeing her retch violently, he leaned down and threatened, "If you dare to vomit on me—"
Before he could finish, she vomited a mixture of alcohol and stomach acid all over his chest.
"I'm... I'm sorry!" She actually managed to apologize. Taking advantage of his momentary shock, she struggled free from his arms. She ran to the toilet, knelt down, clutched the bowl, and vomited again.
Benjamin's robe was splattered with her vomit. He took off the robe, and tossed it into the laundry basket. Then, he turned and leaned against the sink, watching her with a frown. She was still vomiting, but there was little left. Aside from the two large glasses of liquor and a glass of ice water she'd just downed, there was nothing else.
This woman hadn't eaten anything all evening! He watched her coldly yet felt an unusual pang of pity. He fetched a cup of warm water and handed it to her, his voice icy. "Stop vomiting. Drink this water and rinse your mouth."
She seemed to have vomited herself into exhaustion, kneeling beside the toilet. Her hand trembled violently as she reached for the cup. She was unable to bring it to her lips for a long moment. Unable to bear the sight any longer, he bent down, snatched the cup from her grasp, and brought it to her mouth. He fed her sip by sip until the cup was empty.
Her face was wet, the tears and water indistinguishable, and she murmured a low "Thank you."
He paid her no further attention, stepping over her with his long legs as he strode straight to the bathroom to shower again. Amid the mist, she remained motionless, slumped against the floor.
He glanced at her, muttered an oath, and broke his own rule once again. Stepping forward, he hooked his arms under her armpits, lifted her off the floor, and carried her into the shower stall. He placed her on the wall-mounted bench, swiftly stripped her clothes off, grabbed the showerhead, and began rinsing her.
The sudden blast of water finally roused a reaction from her. She let out a low cry and tried to turn away, but he pinned her in place. He continued to drench her body and scolded impatiently, "Don't move!"
This was his first time attending to a woman. Even back when he was Alex, women had always come to him willingly. He had had sex with women in the shower before, but bathing one like this was a first. His inexperience made his movements clumsy. While rinsing her hair, he even aimed the showerhead directly at her face. Combined with her dazed state, she choked on the water and began to cough violently. The sudden outburst startled him. He crouched down, concern evident in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"
Her face was wet with water and tears; her eyes were red like a rabbit's; and her voice was hoarse. Yet the first words out of her mouth were: "Alex, I don't owe you anything. I've never done anything to betray you."
He froze, caught between laughter and tears. After watching her for a moment, he reached out and gently patted her cheek. "Grace," he said. "With your limited tolerance for alcohol, you actually had the nerve to play this game with me." He paused, then raised an eyebrow slightly. "Were you faking drunkenness?"