Chapter 815

Elizabeth wanted to take her clothes and leave. Alexander grabbed her arm. The bar was dimly lit. Elizabeth stood right next to Alexander, who was sitting. Elizabeth frowned, and Alexander gave a bitter smile.

“I’m just a stranger? You don’t even want to admit that I’m your friend?”

“Elizabeth, thank you for showing me once again how heartless a woman can be.”

Alexander looked up and met Elizabeth’s gaze. Elizabeth couldn’t help but laugh. Heartless? Was she really that heartless? She wanted to ask Alexander if he was even more heartless.

“When you were with Esme, did you ever think about giving me a bit of dignity? You once held Esme’s hand in front of many people and said I didn’t matter. You said if there were any problems, to go to Esme. What were you thinking then? Did you ever think about how heartless you were? Did you ever think about giving me a bit of dignity?”

The grievances of three years of marriage couldn’t be expressed in just three days and nights. And he had the nerve to call her heartless! She could be even more heartless; did he want to see it and hear it?

Elizabeth removed Alexander’s hand and cursed, “Alexander, a good ex should be like they’re dead! I suggest you consider me dead, and I’ll consider you dead too.”

With that, Elizabeth turned and walked away, not wanting to say another word. Just as she was about to reach the door, she heard a waiter call out, “Ms. Percy, Mr. Tudor has collapsed!” Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat. She turned her head to look back. Sure enough, Alexander was slumped over the table.

Elizabeth was silent. She clenched her fists; her feet felt like they were filled with lead, unable to move. She wavered between helping him and not helping him. After a while, she still pushed the door open and left.

The waiter watched Elizabeth leave. She didn’t leave decisively, but it was clear she had no intention of helping Alexander. “Mr. Tudor?”

“Mr. Tudor?” The waiter patted Alexander’s shoulder, trying to wake him up. Alexander clutched his stomach. He shook his head. He wasn’t unconscious, just suddenly in stomach pain. His head felt like it was splitting; the alcohol hit him all at once, and the nausea made him want to vomit.

Alexander sat up, gasping for air. The stomach pain made it hard to breathe. “Mr. Tudor, should I call an ambulance for you?” the waiter asked. Alexander waved his hand, indicating it wasn’t necessary. He handed over his credit card and said faintly, “Please settle the bill for me.”

“Okay, Mr. Tudor.”

Alexander continued to sit on the sofa. He tried to stand up but found he couldn’t. He had no choice but to take out his phone and call Nolan. But Nolan was in a meeting, and after many calls, Nolan still didn’t answer. Alexander called Kieran. Kieran’s assistant answered the phone: “Mr. Tudor, hello. This is Tristan Knight. Mr. Getty is having dinner with a client and is not available to take the call. Is there something urgent?”

Alexander was too weak to speak. He hung up the phone and curled up again. The alcohol surged, and his blood felt like it was flowing backward. Just as Alexander was about to collapse onto the coffee table, someone caught his head. A familiar scent filled his nostrils. The next second, someone helped him up.

“Elizabeth…” he mumbled.

Elizabeth supported Alexander and said to the waiter, “I’m sorry to trouble you. I’ll take him home.”