Chapter 103 Embracing While Sleeping
Now that Ethan was moving out, Matilda finally softened toward him a bit.
The evening he moved, she even helped carry something—just a kettle, but still, it was something.
After everything was moved, Matilda reminded him, "Ethan, since you're not staying at the clinic anymore, you should give me the back gate key. You won't need it anyway, right?"
Another stab to the heart. She was making sure he couldn't just waltz back in whenever he wanted.
Still, he obediently handed over the key. When he did, she looked almost relieved—like she'd just rid herself of some kind of plague.
A moment later, he heard her on the phone with Wentworth.
"He finally moved out... Yeah, he rented a room. I don't have to come to your place tonight... If you're on duty, don't worry about coming over. I'll be fine on my own..."
Ethan felt like his heart had been turned into swiss cheese. He'd never have another chance to get close to her. Not unless she and Wentworth broke up.
But watching the sweet smile on her face as she talked to Wentworth, he knew that day was far off. Maybe it would never come at all.
...
That evening, Matilda ate dinner at the restaurant.
Her food had just arrived when Ethan showed up too. She glanced at him and gave a brief nod—barely a greeting. Seeing her reaction, Ethan didn't dare sit at her table. There were plenty of empty ones anyway.
Carol came over to take his order. Ethan was in a miserable mood and wanted to drink, but remembering what Carol had said yesterday, he held back.
"I'll have the beef."
"Coming right up."
He sat down and stole a few glances at Matilda, but she was absorbed in her phone. He didn't dare disturb her.
Carol watched them both and shook her head. At least the kid had enough sense not to pester Dr. Spencer.
After finishing her meal, Matilda said goodbye to Carol but left without acknowledging Ethan at all.
The bitterness was overwhelming. "Can I get a beer?" he asked Carol. "Just beer. Won't get drunk on that."
Carol could see he was hurting. She brought him a bottle. He downed half of it in one go.
Even though beer wasn't strong, it still affected him. His head started swimming.
"Slow down!" Carol warned.
Ethan didn't listen. He finished the whole bottle.
Carol shook her head. As expected, when Ethan stood up, he was swaying. He insisted on heading back to his room, but the waitress and cook were busy, so Carol had to help him.
He had no tolerance whatsoever—half lucid, half drunk. On the way back, he kept rambling. "...She was so sweet when we were kids, but so lonely too. No parents around... My father was always traveling, but at least I had my mother and sister. Better than her situation. People used to follow her around—bad people. I... I protected her. Some things she knew about, some she didn't. I did so much for her... The only thing I didn't do was say goodbye properly. I should have asked her to wait for me..."
Hearing this, Carol felt a pang of sympathy.
"But you two weren't meant to be," she said gently. "And that was all childhood stuff. She's probably had how many boyfriends since then? Whatever childhood connection you had is long gone. Why torture yourself like this?"
"All those years away from her, I thought about her constantly. But it wasn't until I came back and saw her again that I realized... I love her so deeply. She's imprinted on every inch of my body, in my muscles, in my blood. Do you understand?"
"You're pretty poetic when you're drunk," Carol observed. She'd never been good with flowery language herself.
Finally getting him into his room, Carol tried to guide him toward the bed. But even though he wasn't heavy, he was tall and had some weight to him. As he fell onto the mattress, he pulled her down with him.
She landed on top of him.
Ethan was still rambling, and when Carol fell against him, he instinctively held her tight—as if afraid his audience might escape.
She tried to get up, but his grip was like iron. He kept talking about his feelings, completely unaware he was holding a woman.
After struggling for a moment without success, she almost slapped him. But then she realized there was nothing sexual in his embrace. He just needed someone to listen, to pour out everything he'd been holding inside.
So Carol stopped fighting it. She lay there on his chest, quietly listening.
He alternated between crying and laughing, going on and on about his tangled emotions. Eventually, he rolled over, tucking her into his arms, and fell into a deep sleep.
Carol found herself cradled like a doll against him. She could feel his heartbeat, his breathing.
It had been so long since she'd been held like this.
She studied his sleeping face. The first time she'd seen him, she'd thought he was handsome, but his constant melancholy had put her off. Still, she couldn't deny he was attractive.
After a while, she laughed at herself. What am I doing?
It took considerable effort to wriggle free. She grabbed a pillow and shoved it into his arms as a replacement. He hugged it contentedly and settled into peaceful sleep.
...
When morning came, Ethan remembered his behavior from the night before—holding Carol and talking endlessly. And then... how had she gotten away?
His ears burned red thinking about it. He couldn't remember what he'd said, but he remembered the feeling of holding her.
Carol was beautiful with a killer figure. Even at thirty, though her personality could be sharp, she sometimes showed flashes of girlish softness—the kind that came from having principles and beliefs.
Getting out of bed, Ethan saw Carol already busy in the courtyard. She was always up early, keeping everything spotless. Her laundry hung on the line—machine-washed but carrying a fresh, clean scent.
He approached her hesitantly, running his fingers through his hair nervously. He didn't know what to say, but Carol turned and smiled at him.
"Morning."
"Morning. About last night... I'm sorry. I lost it again."
"It's nothing. I'm getting used to it," Carol said casually.
"But I... what I did to you... That was terrible of me."
Carol remained unbothered. "Yeah, I listened to your rambling for quite a while. If you feel that guilty, you can pay extra."
Hearing she wanted money, Ethan immediately replied, "Of course. How much?"
Money made it better somehow. Less guilt, less creepy.
"You decide," Carol said.
"...Five hundred?"
"Sure. That's basically my weekly income."
Ethan quickly transferred the money. Once she received it, she headed to the front of the restaurant.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Soon after, the waitress Lily came in. Seeing Ethan, she greeted him warmly and asked how he was settling in.
Ethan couldn't help asking about Carol. "Pretty well, thanks. Though I realized I didn't ask before moving in... Does Carol's husband mind me staying here? Most men would be bothered, even if I'm just a tenant."