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Novel Catalog
Chapter 83
Shawn’s arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer. His voice was low and full of an intensity that Gale couldn’t ignore.
“Gale, can you be more obedient? Don’t make me angry. Listen to me,” he murmured, his words slurred but firm.
Gale’s lips curled into a bitter smile as she stared at him. “My life is in your hands. You can crush it all. What else do you want from me?” she asked, her voice tinged with resignation.
Shawn’s expression darkened, his voice gaining a sharper edge. “I want you to take the initiative. I want you to stay willingly. Instead of… me using hatred and your parents to tie you to me.”
His words hung in the air, and Gale froze, her heart skipping a beat. She didn’t understand what he meant—his words were too jumbled, too contradictory. On second thought, he was drunk. This was just nonsense, wasn’t it?
She laughed softly at herself, shaking her head. “What am I even thinking?” she muttered.
“What are you laughing at?” Shawn snapped, clearly irritated. “I’m talking to you. Are you deaf?”
Gale couldn’t help but murmur, “Even when he’s drunk, he’s still so fierce…”
“I’m not drunk!” Shawn retorted sharply, his grip on her tightening.
“Yes, yes, you’re not drunk,” Gale replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “The more drunk people are, the more they like to say that they’re not.”
Her tone was playful, almost as if she were coaxing a child, but Shawn didn’t seem to find it amusing.
“Shawn, let me go for a second,” she said, trying to break free from his grip. “I’ll get a hot towel to wipe your face.”
But Shawn wasn’t having any of it. He immediately shot back, his voice cold, “Where are you going? No.”
His arms only tightened around her waist, his body pressing hers into the bed. Gale winced slightly at the pressure.
“Never want to leave me, ever. If you dare to leave, I will make you pay a price you can’t bear…” Shawn muttered over and over again, as if trying to convince both himself and her.
Gale blinked in disbelief, then laughed softly. “My family’s here. Where can I go?”
Shawn paused, perhaps processing her words. It seemed to make sense to him, and he fell silent for a few moments. Then, with a heavy sigh, he spoke again, his voice quieter, almost defeated.
“Gale, what do you want?”
Her brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”
“What do you want, and how can I make you stay?” Shawn’s eyes softened as they met hers. “You say it, and I’ll give it. As long as you want it, as long as I have it.”
His sincerity was undeniable, and for a fleeting moment, Gale lost herself in his gaze. His words felt like a promise—a raw, vulnerable promise—something more than she’d ever heard from him before. Despite the animosity between them, despite everything that had happened, in that moment, Shawn looked at her as though she was the only one who mattered.
The two of them sat in silence, eyes locked, until the sound of a knock broke the spell.
Knock, knock, knock…
Gale snapped back to reality, quickly getting up to answer the door. The housekeeper stood in the doorway, holding a tray of food.
“Madam, hangover soup,” the housekeeper said with a polite smile.
Gale nodded absently, taking the tray from her. She walked back to the bedside and set it down gently. But when she looked over at Shawn, she saw that he had already fallen asleep, his eyes closed, his body relaxed.
Gale stood there for a long moment, looking at him. His words from earlier seemed like a dream, something illusory. But they had come from his mouth.
She shook her head with a wry smile, trying to push the thoughts from her mind. He was drunk. She couldn’t expect anything from him when he was in that state. It was better to forget it.
Gently, she placed the hangover soup on the bedside table and climbed back into bed beside him. She closed her eyes, trying to silence the whirlwind of thoughts in her mind.
When Shawn woke up the next morning, it was well past noon. His head was throbbing, the pain from his hangover making him rub his temples repeatedly. His mind was foggy, and he couldn’t remember much about the night before. The last thing he recalled was talking and drinking with Joe at the bar.
He stumbled out of bed, searching the room, but Gale was nowhere to be found.
“Mr. Wood, your wife has gone to work,” the housekeeper informed him as he walked downstairs. “But before she left, she specially made some hangover soup for you.”
Shawn nodded absently, his face neutral as he sat down at the dining table. He picked up his spoon, but the housekeeper wasn’t finished.
“Mrs. Wood is very hardy,” she continued. “You were very drunk last night. She took care of you by herself. She didn’t sleep well, and this morning, her face looked haggard.”
Shawn’s mind raced as he processed the housekeeper’s words. Gale had taken care of him, even when she’d probably had a million other things to do. She hadn’t left him. Even though he was a mess, she stayed.
The weight of that hit him harder than any hangover.