Chapter 817

She pushed Alexander to sit properly. The car quickly arrived at Opulence Heights Estates. Elizabeth helped Alexander out of the car. His body wasn’t as heavy as when they had just left the bar. Elizabeth knew that the cold wind, combined with her presence, had scared him sober.

Elizabeth dragged him to the villa’s entrance and asked, “What’s the code?”

“Your birthday,” he said softly.

Elizabeth looked up at him. What?

“My birthday?” Elizabeth asked him.

“Or what, Esme’s birthday?” He looked up, his eyes bloodshot. The smell of alcohol on him was blown towards her nose by the wind.

Elizabeth lowered her eyes. When they were together, the code was always Alexander’s birthday: 0982.

Once, she asked Alexander if he knew her birthday. He answered quickly at that time. She was particularly happy.

The door lock opened. The warm air rushed out, but as they entered the living room, only loneliness and coldness remained. Such a big house, and now Alexander lived alone. Elizabeth used to live here alone. It was a bit ironic; it seemed they could never live together.

Elizabeth threw Alexander onto the sofa. Alexander scratched his head and then held his forehead with one hand, trying to sober up. But the more he tried to sober up, the more confused he felt. Elizabeth wet a towel and then threw it to Alexander, “Wipe your face, sober up.”

When Alexander looked up, Elizabeth was heading to the kitchen. She said, “I’ll cook some pasta for you to settle your stomach. Otherwise, if your stomach acts up later, I’ll have to take you to the hospital again.”

“Alexander, I’m just your ex-wife. I’ve done enough to be responsible. You better remember my kindness.” She muttered in the kitchen.

Alexander wiped his face, listening to her muttering, feeling a sense of familiarity and joy. It was like being back in those three years. Every time he came home, she was either busy or anxious.

Alexander got up and went to the kitchen. Despite staggering, he stood at the door watching Elizabeth tie her apron and take ingredients out of the fridge.

“Elizabeth, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten your cooking,” he said.

Elizabeth glanced at him, “You have.”

At Lily’s place.

“I mean, in this house,” he said calmly.

“You haven’t. Every time I finished cooking, Esme would call you away.” Elizabeth boiled the water and asked Alexander, “I’m curious, what reasons did Esme use to see you back then? Why did you always leave immediately after taking her calls?”

Alexander replied, “She said she missed me and was very sad. She was sick.”

Elizabeth laughed. So, such a simple reason could always call Alexander away. Elizabeth still remembered that rainy day. She was so scared and called him countless times, but he wouldn’t answer even once. But Esme could call him away, just saying she missed him.

Elizabeth didn’t say anything, just focused more on cooking the pasta.

“Elizabeth, I’m sorry.” His apology reached her ears again.

Elizabeth shook her head, “It’s nothing. There’s no guilt in not loving…”

Elizabeth smiled. This was a phrase she recently found very reasonable and insightful.

“I love you, so I’m more guilty.” His voice was steady and pleasant, with a hint of melancholy.

Elizabeth paused. This was the first time she heard Alexander say “I love you.”

Elizabeth cracked an egg into the pasta, making it lighter for him. With a stomach problem, he needed to eat light. Elizabeth placed the cooked pasta on the dining table.

“Are you a bit more sober now? After eating the pasta, go upstairs and rest. Take a shower in the morning.” Elizabeth took off her apron, her voice cold, “I’m leaving.”

Alexander instinctively asked, “Leaving this late?”

Elizabeth said, “Is it appropriate for me to stay here overnight, my ex-husband?”