Chapter 159 How Is It Not a Confession
"Cigarettes? Found them tasteless, so I quit."
While Anthony was finding his cigarettes tasteless, Alexander was seriously answering Arabella's question.
Arabella looked somewhat surprised. "I thought all smokers had major addictions."
Alexander had mentioned wanting to quit smoking before, but she hadn't really believed him. If cigarettes were that easy to quit, there wouldn't be so many smokers in the world.
In her mind, as long as Alexander didn't smoke in the house or blow secondhand smoke in her face, she'd be satisfied.
When she'd come home tonight, Alexander had casually asked why she smelled like smoke. She'd told him about accompanying Daisy to the wrap party, where men had been smoking in the private room, leaving her clothes with that smell.
She'd suddenly realized she hadn't seen Alexander smoke in a while, which prompted her question. She hadn't expected he'd actually quit.
"That's amazing." Arabella couldn't help giving him a thumbs up. "Just deciding to quit and doing it—that kind of willpower is really admirable."
Alexander looked at her deeply. "You don't like the smell of smoke, do you?"
Arabella gazed into those unfathomably deep blue eyes, her heart suddenly racing. What did he mean by that? Had he... quit smoking for her?
Her ears grew hot, her palms slightly damp with sweat. She felt nervous and flustered, wanting to ask but too embarrassed to voice the question. Not asking left her heart scratching like a cat—unbearable.
Remembering what Daisy had earnestly told her before coming back, she grew even more nervous. Heat rushed to her face. She'd thought she'd sobered up before coming home, but now she felt drunk again, burning hot.
Should she ask? Better not... what if she was being presumptuous? Maybe she should ask... never mind... What if he likes me... you're dreaming...
In the end, Arabella didn't have the courage to ask even one question. She fled in panic. "Um... I'll go check if Becky finished her homework. Time for dinner."
Alexander watched her almost frantic retreat and smiled bitterly. She really didn't want this. He'd made his meaning so clear, she'd obviously understood, but still wouldn't respond.
Counting it up, they'd been living together for almost nine months. Apart from that marriage certificate at the beginning, he'd made zero progress.
He sighed softly, Blake's joking words flashing through his mind: "Alex, what problem can't be solved by sleeping together once? Haven't you heard? A woman's vagina is the key to her heart."
His fingers curled slightly before he gently shook his head, driving those thoughts away.
To him, Arabella was like a treasure, like an angel—sacred and inviolable. He loved her, but more than that, he respected her. He wouldn't use such despicable means to have her, wouldn't violate her.
He'd already drawn her into marriage—could mutual love be far behind? After convincing himself, Alexander let out a long breath.
Arabella soon called Becky out for dinner. But during the meal, she seemed distracted, continuing to spoon soup into her mouth even after finishing the bowl.
Becky exchanged glances with Alexander, silently asking, "Did you make Ms. Bourbon angry?"
Alexander hesitated, then shook his head. Had that comment before dinner upset her?
Come to think of it, her purpose in marrying him was simple—to be able to adopt children and have a temporary place after divorce. Now the child was adopted and she had money. His necessity seemed to have disappeared...
The money in her hands was what he'd given her through various means... Now he knew what it felt like to lift a rock and drop it on his own foot.
His words had disgusted her, hadn't they...
Dinner ended in an awkward atmosphere. Becky tactfully returned to her room to study, leaving space for them.
Before leaving, she winked at Alexander, signaling him to perform well. Alexander didn't know whether to laugh or cry, waving her off.
While Alexander was washing dishes in the kitchen, Arabella took a beer from the fridge, poured a glass, and drank it down with the resolve of facing death.
Liquid courage—the alcohol Daisy had given her for courage had mostly worn off, and she felt she couldn't say those words while sober.
Since she'd decided to fight for this, if she backed down now, she couldn't face Daisy, and... she really didn't want to have regrets.
Anyway... anyway... worst case they'd never speak again.
If he was willing to try, she'd continue living here and develop feelings with him. If he wasn't willing, she'd move out tomorrow—she'd already rented a new place.
But she was really panicking. Even after two beers, she was still panicking. Living thirty years, this was her first time actively confessing.
Before marrying Anthony, she'd never even dated. Her relationship with Anthony had been his initiative—this was her first time pursuing a man.
No, it didn't really count as pursuing, just asking... But God, why did even asking feel so difficult?
Anxiously, she unconsciously drank the entire bottle of beer. When she realized it, her brain had completely stopped functioning. Looking blankly at the empty bottle in her hands—how had she drunk so much?
She was screwed—
The moment that thought appeared, Arabella rolled her eyes back and passed out.
Alexander finished washing dishes and came out to find her collapsed on the table. Initially thinking she'd just fallen asleep, he approached and saw the beer bottle beside her, then noticed the unnatural flush on her face. His heart tightened.
Had his comment driven her to this point? She must really not want their relationship to become complicated.
Alexander sighed, regretting his earlier impulse while bending down to gently call her. "Arabella? Arabella? Get up, go sleep in the room."
Arabella made some mumbling sounds but didn't move.
Her mind had a tiny bit of consciousness left, just enough to recognize Alexander's voice. Beyond that, she couldn't think of anything else. Her entire body was controlled by alcohol—even lifting a finger was difficult.
Seeing no response, Alexander sighed and could only bend down to lift her horizontally.
The moment her body left the ground, Arabella's mind cleared slightly. Opening her eyes with difficulty, she saw that handsome face close up and smiled. "Alex..."
Alexander's lower abdomen tightened.
The woman he loved was in his arms, her soft, fragrant body pressed tightly against his chest. Her face was flushed, eyes misty as she called his name with such a soft, sweet voice...
It was hard not to react.
He sighed inwardly, pushed open the door, and placed Arabella on the bed. After hesitating, he didn't touch her clothes, only pulled a thin blanket over her body. His voice was gentle. "Good girl, you'll feel better after sleeping."
Though drunk, Arabella firmly remembered her mission. She gripped Alexander's sleeve tightly, not letting him leave.
Alexander was puzzled. "Arabella?"
Arabella mumbled something unclear.
Alexander sighed, crouching down to hold her hand. "Are you uncomfortable anywhere? Want some water?"
Arabella couldn't process what he'd said, but just wouldn't let go.
Alexander was helpless. "If you keep grabbing me, how can you sleep?"
Arabella couldn't figure out why she was holding him either, but subconsciously knew something important hadn't been done. She couldn't let go.
"Alex..."
Her hand fumbled around, hooking around his neck.
"I can't let you leave, don't go..."
Alexander's expression softened completely. "Okay, I won't leave. I'll stay with you."
Arabella's mouth was dry. She unconsciously licked her lips, the crimson petals glistening and alluring.
Alexander smiled bitterly, taking a light breath. She was really testing his willpower.
He had no confidence in his willpower. When she turned over and kicked off the blanket, exposing her beautiful legs, he quickly wrapped the blanket back around her.
Under the blanket, her tender legs kept moving. Alexander's heart raced as he held down the blanket, determined not to let her kick it off.
Arabella was hot, whimpering pitifully like something impermeable was wrapping her. She was miserable, struggling for ages without breaking free. Frustrated, she opened her eyes groggily. "Hot..."
In the lamplight, the man's handsome face reflected in her eyes. Confused, she reached out to touch it.
"Alex... you're so good-looking..."
The boneless little hand wandered over his face. Alexander swallowed, his entire body rigid.
Arabella licked her lips, thinking she was dreaming. If this wasn't a dream, how could Alex be sitting obediently in front of her letting her touch his face?
So in her dream, she boldly pulled his face over and kissed him, smacking her lips afterward. "I guess I got my money's worth."
Alexander's breathing became labored, his hands showing veins from clenching. His voice was low and controlled. "Arabella, do you know what you're doing?"
Arabella said, "I'm kissing you."
"Why are you kissing me?"
"Because you're really good-looking, and... you're good to me too... if only you weren't gay..."
The fervor in Alexander's eyes was almost uncontainable. His voice carried indescribable restraint. "If I weren't gay... what would you do?"
"Then I could sleep with you... like real husband and wife..."
This answer gave Alexander wild joy and impulse. He took a deep breath.
He couldn't stay any longer—he'd lose control. Taking advantage of someone wasn't gentlemanly behavior. Even if something were to happen, it should be when she was clearheaded.
As he tried to get up, he found Arabella still gripping his sleeve tightly. He tried to pry her hand off but didn't dare use too much force, afraid of hurting her.
After struggling for ages, he still couldn't succeed.
"Arabella..." His tone carried a hint of pleading. "Let go."
Arabella wouldn't let go. In dreams, she could do whatever she wanted.
She pulled Alexander down to kiss him.
While kissing, she asked unclearly, "How many girlfriends have you had?"
Alexander's voice was hoarse. "None."
Arabella stopped moving.
The woman's lips were against his, her soft body at his chest. He wouldn't dare dream of something so stimulating. His entire body felt electrified as he used all his willpower to suppress the urge to pin her beneath him.
Arabella leaned against his chest, asking somewhat sadly, "Do you have those... urges?"
Before Alexander could respond, she'd already forgotten her question. Looking up to tell him something, she accidentally touched his Adam's apple.
The man's body tensed. Almost uncontrollably, he cupped the back of her head and kissed her.
The passion suppressed in his heart erupted. Somehow, they ended up rolling on the bed. When Alexander was unbuttoning her shirt, his mind suddenly cleared.
Gently propping himself up, looking at her hair dampened with sweat from the heat, he sighed softly. As he tried to get up, Arabella wouldn't let him. Only in dreams did she have the courage for such things, continuously nuzzling against his chest like a kitten.
Alexander's body was taut, his low, hoarse voice carrying bitter laughter and pleading. "Arabella, have mercy on me..."
Drunk, Arabella didn't understand men's endurance. She just wanted to stay close to him.
Alexander coaxed her softly until she fell into deep sleep. Only then could he finally escape, fleeing to the bathroom like a refugee for a half-hour cold shower.
While showering, he couldn't help remembering what Arabella had said.
"Alex, you're so good-looking..."
"I'm kissing you..."
"If only you weren't gay..."
She liked him, right? At least a little bit, right?
Her passionate invitation showed she didn't mind physical contact with him. He... had a chance, right?
That kiss had been so fervent and fierce, like breaking some bodily seal. Alexander looked down and sighed.
He took another half-hour cold shower.
That night, Arabella rested well. In her dreams, she got everything she wanted, sleeping with a smile.
Alexander tossed and turned, barely sleeping. One moment remembering Arabella's words, the next that deep kiss, then her soft body.
She lay less than a meter away from him, on his bed.
He couldn't think about it anymore—he'd need another cold shower.
That night, only endless sighs accompanied him.
---
The next day, Arabella opened her eyes and struggled to sit up.
She vaguely remembered having a beautiful dream last night but had completely forgotten what it was about.
Right, she'd gotten drunk.
She'd meant to get some liquid courage but accidentally drank an entire bottle of beer, completely losing consciousness.
Had Alex carried her to bed?
Arabella's ears reddened slightly. She was annoyed—after finally working up courage, how had she gotten drunk?
So useless.
After wallowing in regret for a while, she got up to wash up. Just as she finished, Alexander returned from dropping Becky at school, carrying breakfast. Seeing Arabella emerge from the bathroom, he coughed uncomfortably.
Last night's events were burned into his brain. He'd spent the night anxious, afraid Arabella would remember him taking liberties with her... Though it had been uncontrollable, it was still inappropriate behavior.
Seeing Arabella's normal expression, he relaxed.
He couldn't help but glance at her lips again, feeling an urge rising in his heart.
People really did want more and more.
Arabella had no memory of last night's events. She smiled at Alexander and opened the bag he'd brought. "What did you buy?"
"Sandwiches and milk." Alexander moved beside her casually, feeling parched. He cleared his throat and said seemingly offhandedly, "I'm actually... bisexual."