Diarmuid punched Harvey in the face before he could finish!
Harvey had deliberately hugged Abigail in front of him the last time, and now she was drunk!
Was this his doing too?
They were never getting rid of him, were they?
Harvey backed two paces from the punch, and wiped his lips–it was cracked and bleeding.
Looking up at Diarmuid, he said, “There’s no need to get so violent, is there?”
Still, Diarmuid merely spared Harvey another glance before turning toward Abigail.
He noticed by then that Abigail was sleeping like a log since all that commotion did not even wake her. And when he got close, the stink of alcohol wafting from her left him frowning. “How much did she drink?”
“Those two? It must be around two bottles-” Harvey began.
“Did you make her drink?” Diarmuid growled, cutting him short.
“Urgh–shut up already!” Abigail suddenly turned around, opening her eyes groggily to see two familiar figures before her, one of which resembled Diarmuid.
However, she quickly told herself that it was not him–why would he show up out of the blue?
Believing that she had mistaken Harvey for Diarmuid again, she sighed and closed her eyes. “I’m so done.”
It was as if everyone looked like him now.
Did she miss him so much she became delusional?!
“Abigail Bernstein,” Diarmuid growled in a deep, rumbling voice.
Abigail promptly opened her eyes when she heard him!
Abigail took a good look at the person in front of her–that angry face looked just like Diarmuid!
Suddenly, her heart was racing, and she wanted to run.
“I–Diarmuid?” She gulped, and tried to touch to decide if it was reality or fantasy.
However, before she could reach him, Diarmuid turned and stepped out of the room, growling, “Come with me.”
Abigail was left at a loss of words, and was left sitting on the bed, her thoughts barely keeping up.
She looked at Harvey, and then at Stan and James who were standing at the doorway.
Her head suddenly hurt, and she rubbed her temples–it still took a while for her headache to subside.
As her mind cleared up, she thought that since James and Stan were both there… Diarmuid must have returned.
So, it really was him just now?
Panicking, she leaped off the bed and ran out of the room without stopping to put on her shoes.
At the same time, Stan and James shot Harvey a look, and snorted with contempt–what he did was despicable and ungentlemanly!
Harvey, however, reared his chin at them provokingly.
He may fear Diarmuid, but not these two. “What are you looking at? You should be thanking me–she would’ve been left on the streets if not for me.”
Stan had always borne a grudge against him. “I’ve really been soft on you back at the hospital. If this happens again, I will make sure all your teeth end up on the floor. Let’s see if you would lust after married women after that.”
Harvey shrugged, unconcerned. “You’re just an assistant, and you think you can discipline me? And are you really meddling with your boss’s domestic affairs?”
“You wanna go?!”
Stan saw red and was already advancing toward Harvey, but James caught his arm and told him, “Don’t bother.”
“What, can you stand that face?!” Stan struggled a little, clearly bent on violence.
“You’d cheapen us if we did fight him. Let’s just go,” James said, and dragged Stan along as he left.
Harvey was left speechless for a moment, before snapping at them, “Hey! What was that supposed to mean?!”
Who did they even think they were talking to?!
Stan wheeled on him with a glare and snorted. “Did he stutter?!”
Havey shut the door with a loud bang, because he was furious and sick of Stan’s punchable face!
Still, as he calmed down to think, he decided Diarmuid must suffer more than he did.
His own woman, in a room alone with another man?
Diarmuid would definitely still be upset even if they did not do a thing!
Oh, he was on top of things all along!
He lay in bed then, which still had a faint smell of alcohol from Abigail’s body, and her warmth lingered on the mattress as well.
Harvey pulled the blanket over himself and put his head on the pillow where Abigail slept, even caressing it.
He actually thought that it was perverted, but assured himself, “I just love her that much.”
“Yes, that must be it.”
With that, he closed his eyes and slept soundly, his lips suddenly not hurting at all.
Meanwhile, Abigail chased after Diarmuid and got into his car.
As she took her seat, her fingers clenched over her knees, somehow feeling a little guilty.
She actually did nothing aside from getting drunk… and with Harvey?
She had no shoes and had run to the car barefooted, so she started rubbing her dusty soles.
Also, her throat was miserably dry.
“When did you come back?” she rasped.
Diarmuid stayed silent since he was still feeling grumpy–she got drunk and was hanging out with a man who had always been coveting her?
He did not want to think about it, because his head would hurt otherwise.
Abigail turned to look at him since he was being quiet.
“Are you angry?”
Why else was he ignoring her?
Diarmuid slowly turned to look at her just then. “Finally sober, are we?”
Abigail did want to weasel her way out of that and deliberately miss the point.
Judging from Diarmuid’s reaction, however, she was not getting out of this if she did not explain herself.
Clearing her throat, she said, “So… Lulu and Zachary were fighting because Zachary cheated on her. Lulu was feeling terrible, so I drank with her… and ended up having too much to drink.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
Leave a Reply