Chapter 318
Chapter 318
Dominic had never been drunk.
He couldn't fathom whether there was any truth to the poets' claim that a deep drink could wash away a
world of sorrow.
He was a sober man by habit, a paragon of rationality.
He knew that when life threw a curveball, you had to swing at it—escaping was never the solution.
So, even when pain nipped at his heels, he never let it out.
Once, when he saw Harrison drowning in gloom, the guy would chain-smoke like a chimney, one
cigarette after another.
Dominic had asked him, "Does smoking really help you blow off steam?"
Harrison had dared him to try it, but Dominic never did.
He didn't plan on drinking that day either, for he neither drank nor smoked, but his heart felt like it was
being crushed in a vice.
The bright lights stretched his tall, imposing shadow across the carpet.
Even that shadow seemed to drip with loneliness.
Staring at the bottle of whiskey in Evelyn's hand, its cap already discarded, his broad shoulders
slumped as he said, "Maybe I'll have a couple of drinks."
With that, he reached for the bottle.
Evelyn clutched the bottle tightly to her chest.
"Dominic, I didn't really come here to get you to drink. Booze is bad for you. I just wanted an excuse to
see you, to keep you company. Don't actually drink it."
Dominic wrestled the bottle from her protective grasp and plopped down on the couch.
Without a word, he tilted his head back and took a hefty swig. RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only
"Cough, cough!"
The liquor was fierce, and he wasn't used to it.
Dominic choked.
Evelyn, feeling a pang of pity, quickly patted his back and went to pour him some water.
By the time she returned with the water, the 750ml whiskey bottle was down to its last third.
His coughing had turned his eyes red.
Evelyn's heart ached as she tried to snatch the bottle away. "Dominic, stop drinking."
Dominic took the bottle over Evelyn's head, dodging her grab, and got it back in front of him.
He took another two gulps.
If the pain could be forgotten, even briefly, then let him be drunk tonight.
Evelyn was regretting bringing the alcohol.
"Dominic, don't do this, it's killing me to watch," Evelyn was on the verge of tears.
She knew that he couldn't handle alcohol well, and drinking too much would surely upset his stomach.
"Dominic, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tempted you with alcohol. Please stop."
She clawed at his arm.
But the difference in strength between men and women is vast.
No matter how she tried to stop him, the booze kept disappearing into Dominic.
He seemed set on indulging himself, on drowning his sorrows, his eyes full of pain.
His gaze met hers, and tears swirled in her eyes before spilling over.
Dominic asked, "President Miller, I'm a mess. What on earth do you see in me?"
"I can't put my finger on it, but I just do. To me, you're the best there is."
Evelyn finally wrested the bottle away, holding it tight, away from his reach.
But there wasn't much left to drink.
He'd nearly polished off the entire bottle of whiskey.
Evelyn worried his stomach couldn't handle it. "Dominic, are you feeling okay? Is your stomach
hurting? Want some milk?"
The alcohol was too strong.
He'd drunk too fast.
Now the drunkenness surged from his chest, pressing against his brain.
His head began to spin.
His consciousness blurred.
Rubbing his temples, he gave a wry smile. "Feeling okay? Not at all. I have no home, no parents, no
friends, nothing."
Evelyn had stood up, taking a few steps away to get a bottle of milk from his fridge to warm up for him.
But hearing his voice laced with agony and self-mockery, her steps faltered, and her heart clenched.
Turning back, she saw Dominic lifting his gaze to hers.
His eyes still held self-mockery and pain, now mixed with a heavy dose of drunken haze.
Drunk as he was, he looked even more pitiable.
He smiled wryly, "President Miller, I'm like a jinx. I'm destined to be alone. You, the heiress of Seraphim
Haven, won't find happiness with me. Stop wasting your time."
Like a plane tree, one can stand empty-hearted.
Others think it'll sprout in spring, flourish with green.
But it was already dead last winter.
He was that empty-hearted plane tree, dying once when his parents abandoned him.
Dying again on the operating table.
And when his relationship with Roxanne ended, his heart turned to ash.
He and Roxanne shared a fate, both desolate, so he was unable to offer her happiness.
He had to let go.
And he didn't want to fail Evelyn either.
Evelyn stood still, pondering for half a minute before comforting him, "Dominic, let's not talk about this
today, okay? You might be a bit drunk. I'll warm up some milk for you."
As she turned, her smile faded.
Her lashes fluttered weakly.
She sighed heavily.
Being rejected time and again was a bitter pill.
Returning with the warm milk, she found Dominic resting on the couch, eyes closed, surrounded by the
thick scent of whiskey.
She sat next to him, holding the milk, and gently tapped his arm. "Dominic, have some milk."
Dominic slowly opened his eyes.
His gaze settled on Evelyn, slightly intoxicated.
Suddenly, he pulled her into his embrace.
The milk spilled all over the floor.
Feeling his embrace for the first time, even in his drunken state, her mind went numb.
The emptied glass fell from her grasp, rolling aimlessly on the carpet.
She didn't dare make a sound.
Was he mistaking her for Roxanne?
He looked down at her, his Adam's apple bobbing seductively, as if he might kiss her, but he didn't.
She had once stolen a kiss from Dominic.
Dominic showed no reaction, coldly pushing her away.
She longed for Dominic to lean down and kiss her.
But when Dominic looked at her, he just furrowed his brows tightly.
He let go of her with a bitter laugh, "You're not Roxanne, you're not."
His hoarse voice was not only filled with his own agony but also sharp as a knife, each word stabbing
into Evelyn's heart.
Feeling suddenly unsteady, Evelyn braced herself against the couch, pinching her own leg with her
other hand to force back the tears, and murmured in a low voice, "Dominic, don't think you can keep
hurting me just because I like you. Don't push me too far, or I swear I'll bite you."
As she spoke, her tearful face unexpectedly twisted into a mischievous scowl, "I really will bite you."
"You're not Roxanne," Dominic said, shaking off her hand.
Frustrated, she lowered her head and bit down hard on Dominic’s arm that had pushed her away. The
pain jolted Dominic back to his senses, and he cried out, "Ow!"