Chapter 165 Transition to a Long-term Marriage
"Arabella..."
The man's voice was low and husky, his kisses almost reverent as they traveled across her skin. That sigh—like he'd finally gotten what he'd always wanted—made Arabella's resistance unconsciously falter.
Alexander wasn't really forcing her. His movements were gentle. Even drunk and overwhelmed, he was careful not to hurt her. Arabella had multiple chances to push him away.
But she... didn't.
Hearing him say "Arabella," she lost all ability to resist. He knew who she was. He wasn't so drunk he'd mistaken her for someone else.
That realization filled her with a flutter of hope and sweetness.
Liquid courage had made Alexander bold. When she didn't refuse him, he took it as permission. For a moment he couldn't tell if reason or impulse was winning, but he continued with gentle persistence, careful not to crush her as he propped himself up slightly...
Their breathing tangled together. Their hearts raced in sync.
Lost in wave after wave of trembling sensation, Arabella thought she must be crazy—because with shaking hands, she pulled out the little package Daisy had given her earlier.
Better safe than sorry. And now she actually... needed it.
When the small, crinkly object was pressed into his hand, Alexander paused. He looked down, and what little reason remained in his blue eyes burned even hotter, more fevered.
He took it from her and pressed kiss after kiss to her face. Even now, lost in desire, he wasn't rough or careless. Instead, he guided her patiently, bit by bit...
For Arabella, this was an entirely new experience. She'd never felt anything so wonderful. She knew it was terrible timing to think of the past, but she couldn't help remembering what it had been like with Anthony—the pain, the roughness. Now it felt like these gentle hands were slowly smoothing away all those old hurts...
She suddenly understood that saying—the best way to forget an old love is to find a new one a hundred times better.
The man seemed to notice her distraction. Displeased, he nipped lightly at the corner of her mouth. Arabella gasped, her attention snapping back to him.
Everything happened naturally, inevitably, falling into place like water flowing downhill. By the time the living room fell quiet again, an hour had passed.
On the small sofa, they lay entwined, skin to skin. Alexander didn't dare open his eyes. If he could claim drunken confusion before, he was stone-cold sober now.
Things had spiraled beyond his control. He worried Arabella would be angry, that she'd hold him accountable later—and he'd have no defense. After all, only he knew exactly what tactics he'd used to seduce her...
Alexander felt guilty now, worried about consequences after the fact.
Arabella, meanwhile, felt lost. She assumed Alexander had fallen asleep afterward, so she wasn't too concerned about him. But thinking about their already complicated relationship—now with this added layer—she felt completely at a loss.
She wasn't the type who could casually sleep with someone and walk away. Deep down, she felt that regardless of gender, when something like this happened, people should take responsibility.
But the problem was, she'd taken advantage of Alex while he was drunk. When he woke up, how could she possibly explain? She felt so guilty. Even though Alex had gone from gay to bisexual, he didn't like her—and yet she'd slept with him. There was no way to justify this.
Feeling completely unable to face the situation, she carefully extracted herself from his arms and got dressed piece by piece.
After hesitating, she struggled to lift Alexander's limbs and managed to dress him as well.
God, that was exhausting—especially after such strenuous activity. By the time she'd gotten Alexander's clothes back on, her arms felt like noodles.
But she had no choice. She had to pick up Becky. Couldn't set a bad example for the kid.
Arabella went to the bathroom for a quick cleanup, then left.
The moment the door closed, the man on the sofa slowly opened his eyes.
His usually calm blue eyes gazed at the closed door, and he couldn't help sighing.
Daisy's words on the phone echoed through his mind again: "Mr. FitzRoy, Arabella likes you—she's totally in love with you! Really!"
Hope stirred in his heart again, the kind he shouldn't be feeling. Maybe... he should ask?
The situation had already spiraled out of control anyway. Given their current relationship, there was no going back to how purely platonic things had been before.
Alexander made a decision, though he wasn't entirely confident about it.
---
He got up to shower. After cleaning up, he went to the bedroom to rest. An hour later, Arabella returned with Becky. Seeing him emerge from the bedroom fully alert and showing no signs of being drunk, she froze in place.
Alexander cleared his throat awkwardly. "What's for... dinner?"
Arabella snapped out of it hastily. "I bought some takeout. I'll get plates."
She walked into the kitchen like a wind-up toy, her movements stiff and uncoordinated. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely hold the plates. Alexander was awake—she'd never expected that...
She'd thought he was so drunk he'd sleep until tomorrow morning at least. That would've given her all night to figure out what to do.
But she'd only been gone an hour and he was acting like nothing had happened. Was it because he could hold his liquor? Got drunk fast but sobered up just as quickly?
What was she supposed to do? She was too mortified to face him. What if he confronted her about why she'd taken advantage of him when he was helpless? What could she possibly say?
Arabella just stood there, gripping the plate, lost in her spiraling thoughts for the longest time.
Until a tall figure came up behind her. The man's arms wrapped around her waist from behind, his large hands covering hers.
Arabella jumped, nearly leaping out of her skin. Alexander had already taken hold of the plate, gently removing it from her grasp.
He laughed softly. "What's wrong? You've been standing here holding that plate like you're in a trance."
Arabella felt every hair on her body stand on end—embarrassed, ashamed, and mortified. She wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.
Alexander didn't say more. He took the plate and left. When Arabella came out, he and Becky were eating and chatting happily, looking completely normal.
Arabella couldn't help hoping—maybe he'd been too drunk and didn't remember what happened?
The moment that thought entered her mind, she clutched at it like a lifeline, praying it was true.
Maybe... he really didn't remember?
She ate mechanically, that sliver of hope growing with her desperate prayers. But after dinner, when Alexander put Becky to bed and emerged from her room, that hope shattered completely.
"She's asleep." Alexander came out of Becky's room, carefully closing the door. He looked at Arabella, his voice gentle but serious. "Arabella, about earlier..."
The moment he started that sentence, Arabella knew. It was over. All that praying for nothing—he remembered!
Her expression looked like she was mourning, deflated and defeated. But remembering her responsibility, she pulled herself together. "Should we... talk about it?"
Alexander agreed. He pulled out a chair at the dining table for Arabella first, then sat across from her.
"I'm very sorry—"
"I'm very sorry—"
They spoke simultaneously, then stopped at the same time. Alexander paused, then with gentlemanly courtesy gestured for her to continue. "You first."
Arabella smiled bitterly inside but forced herself to speak seriously. "About this afternoon, I'm very sorry. I know this has caused you irreparable physical and emotional harm. I admit I lost my head. I won't be shameless enough to ask for your forgiveness. I don't know what you're planning to do, but... if you need me to, I'll take full responsibility."
Alexander fell silent.
He had a strange feeling that Arabella was saying his lines.
He'd half-coaxed, half-deceived her into sleeping with him. He'd expected her to be furious, for their relationship to hit rock bottom. Instead, not only wasn't she angry—she was willing to take responsibility?
She said she'd lost her head... Didn't that mean his body had at least some appeal to her?
Alexander felt like he was dreaming. A beautiful dream.
The thing he'd been anxious about losing was suddenly within his grasp.
Since she'd already volunteered to take responsibility, naturally he wouldn't be polite about it.
"To be honest, I actually need a long-term marriage." Alexander's voice was somber, his expression pained. "My family has high expectations for my marriage. If I get married and divorce quickly, they'll immediately set me up with blind dates, expecting me to enter another relationship. That's very troubling for me, because I don't want to just marry some random stranger."
Arabella was stunned. "But when we first met, you said you just needed a short marriage to satisfy your family..."
"That was a temporary solution." Alexander smiled bitterly. "I couldn't find a suitable candidate and my family was pressuring me hard, so I figured I'd get through it temporarily. At the time, I really did plan to only cooperate with you briefly."
"But during our time together, I've found you to be kind, generous, with good values and a great personality. If I have to be in a lifelong marriage with someone, I think you're the most suitable choice."
Arabella looked at him hesitantly. "But I..."
A lifelong marriage was still too big a challenge for her. If she treated this marriage as permanent, her expectations of him would definitely increase. Could she still peacefully accept that he didn't love her?
Alexander sighed. "I was planning to mention this to you, but then you said you were moving out, so I kept it to myself. But I never expected... that this would happen."
His tone was so regretful that Arabella immediately felt terrible. On impulse, she spoke without thinking. "I agree. Don't worry, I'll definitely take responsibility."
The corner of Alexander's mouth curved up, barely visible.
He'd successfully kept her. How could that not count as progress?
A long-term marriage between two people who'd already been intimate—and this kind of thing, once it happened once, would happen again. Their relationship would only grow closer.
Finally, he could truly relax. He didn't have to worry about her leaving anymore.
Today's "accident" had spiraled out of control in the best possible way.
Arabella had no idea about his scheming. Seeing him smile, she breathed a sigh of relief. Though it was awkward, at least it was resolved.
After calming down, she felt a tiny flutter of joy. Though she'd wanted to leave before, she'd actually been incredibly reluctant. Now being "forced" to stay this way, she couldn't help feeling happy.
But thinking about their future together, she couldn't help sighing again.
---
At the Watson family home, Anthony frowned at Rachel. "What do you mean you can't find him?"
Rachel looked miserable. "I just can't find him! I don't know where he went. I haven't seen him since we got engaged. His phone's disconnected. He's completely ignoring me!"
Irritation flashed in Anthony's eyes, but because she was his sister, he kept his patience. "Rachel, you need to learn how to handle men. You're engaged to him. He's your fiancé. You have the right to know what he's doing."
Rachel was unhappy too. "But what can I do if he won't talk to me?"
Anthony looked at her. "If he won't talk to you, there are still his parents. Can't you contact them?"
Rachel pouted reluctantly. After hesitating, she asked, "Anthony, is the company's loss really that bad?"
Anthony glanced at her, feeling indescribably irritated. He lit a cigarette and took a drag before answering. "It's bad. We absolutely need the Green family's help. Only they can help the company recover. We lost a third of our trade partnerships this time. I'll be straight with you—the company's cash flow is nearly exhausted. If the Green family doesn't help us, the Watson family might be finished before long."
Rachel looked at him in horror. "It's that serious?"
When Anthony had asked her to contact Ethan and butter up the Green family before, she'd been reluctant. But hearing this now, understanding the severity, she didn't dare be stubborn. "Then I'll call Mrs. Green. I heard the Tucker family is having some celebration in a few days. She should be there. That'll be my chance."
Anthony's gaze sharpened, then he nodded.
Though Ethan's mother had married into Seaside City, her family was from Majestic City—not a prominent clan, but connected to a Tucker family branch by marriage. She'd probably attend the Tucker celebration.
Rachel noticed Anthony didn't react oddly when she mentioned the Tucker family and breathed a small sigh of relief.
She'd thought he might be bothered by it.
The Tucker family celebration was Sawyer's wedding. The bride was Shelly, the second daughter of the Spring family. The Springs weren't as prestigious as the Tuckers, but the Tucker family was so eager to settle Sawyer's marriage that they were willing to compromise.
The reason they were rushing Sawyer's wedding was obviously to prevent him from getting entangled with Cassidy again. Rachel knew about when her brother had caught Sawyer and Cassidy in bed together.
Either way, as long as Anthony wasn't bothered, she was relieved. She'd spend this time building a good relationship with Mrs. Green, then bring Anthony to the wedding. Maybe she could seal the deal right there.
Rachel plotted as she waved at Anthony and headed upstairs. "I'll go call Mrs. Green now."
Anthony watched her figure disappear up the stairs, then turned and walked out expressionlessly.
No one saw that his right hand was clenched into a fist so tight the veins bulged.