Chapter 29: He’s Drunk
On the second floor.
After carrying Vivian to bed, Julian left the room.
Sitting on the edge of the mattress, Vivian gazed out at the blue sky and fluffy white clouds while finishing an apple from the fruit platter. Two little birds—they looked like magpies—perched in the tree right outside her window. One was catching bugs for the other, their tiny heads occasionally bumping together with a happy CHIRP CHIRP. They looked incredibly affectionate.
For dinner, Ms. Shaw made beef noodle soup and brought it upstairs for Vivian. The noodles were perfectly chewy, and the beef had been stewing all afternoon. The tendons were so soft and tender that she could tell it was delicious just by looking at it. However, the meal reminded Vivian of the night she had shared a bowl of noodles with Julian. The noodles he made had been delicious, too.
"Ms. Shaw," Vivian said, looking down at her bowl. "When are President Faulkner and Grandma Faulkner coming back?"
It was already seven o’clock in the evening. Grandma Faulkner and Rachel had gone shopping together today and still hadn’t returned. They’d mentioned they would be eating out. Meanwhile, Julian had a business dinner, leaving only Vivian and Ms. Shaw to eat at home tonight.
"They should be back soon," Ms. Shaw said, glancing at her watch. "But it’s hard to say for sure. Mrs. Faulkner, if you’re tired, you can go to sleep first. Would you like me to fetch you a hot, damp towel?"
"No, no, that’s fine." Vivian waved her hand dismissively.
After resting all afternoon, the swelling in her ankle had gone down. Although it still hurt a tiny bit when she walked, it shouldn’t hinder her movement anymore.
"Ms. Shaw, you can go back to your work."
At Vivian’s words, Ms. Shaw brought over the ointment Julian had applied to Vivian’s ankle earlier that afternoon before finally leaving the room.
Time flew by.
By the time Vivian finished her noodles, scrolled through a job recruitment app on her phone, and finalized a few candidates for her studio, it was already nine o’clock. Grandma Faulkner and Rachel had returned half an hour earlier. They had made quite a commotion upon their arrival; according to Ms. Shaw, Rachel had bought a ton of things and even had her go out to help carry them in.
Rachel had originally called for Vivian to join them, too, but with her injured foot, Vivian couldn’t go. Grandma Faulkner had stopped by to check on Vivian. Seeing that she was mostly fine, she left to get some rest. When Grandma Faulkner turned to leave, Vivian could see the exhaustion not just on her face, but in her eyes as well. It was as if this weariness stemmed entirely from all the drama surrounding Rachel.
Thinking of Rachel inevitably reminded Vivian of that old photograph. She couldn’t very well ask Rachel about it, so how was she supposed to look into that estate?
Unable to come up with a clue, Vivian was lying on her stomach in bed, utterly bored, when she suddenly heard someone open the door and walk in. Her heart skipped a beat. Had Julian returned?
Vivian didn’t know why she felt so happy, but she sat up straight and craned her neck toward the doorway, eager to see him.
At the door.
After pushing it open, Julian didn’t immediately step fully into the room. Instead, he leaned his back against the heavy wood and closed his eyes.
She wondered what was wrong. Finding this odd, Vivian peered closer and noticed a faint flush on Julian’s cheeks. Suddenly, she realized what was going on. Ms. Shaw had mentioned that he had a business dinner tonight. Judging by his current state, had he been drinking?
"Julian?" Vivian called out. "Are you alright? Do you want me to have Ms. Shaw prepare a bowl of hangover soup for you?"
With that, she slipped out of bed, intending to go check on him. Leaning against the door, Julian remained silent. His cold, clear eyes continuously sized her up. At first, he looked a bit confused, as if he had completely forgotten that they were married. He seemed somewhat bewildered as to why there was a woman in his room.
A moment later, it seemed to click. His thoughts were visibly sluggish. A long while after Vivian asked her question, he finally shook his head.
"No need. I’ll be fine after resting for a bit. You... aren’t asleep yet?"
After speaking, he swayed on his feet, barely managing to steady himself. He walked slowly over to the sofa, picked up a glass of water from the table, and downed it in one gulp.
Vivian stared in stunned silence. That was the glass of water she had left half-finished while eating her noodles earlier. She remembered that Julian was a clean freak, yet he had actually drank from her glass! Didn’t he know that doing this basically counted as an indirect kiss?
Vivian’s mind grew a little hazy. Seeing Julian leaning quietly against the sofa without saying a word, she suddenly felt as though he might not be drunk after all. He still looked as calm and unbothered as ever, resembling a banished immortal who stood entirely apart from ordinary mortals like herself.
"Julian, do you really not need any hangover soup?" Vivian sat down next to him, reached out, and waved her hand in front of his face. Holding up two fingers, she asked, "How many fingers am I holding up?"
The moment she asked, the supposedly drunk and sluggish man suddenly shot out his hand and grabbed hers. With her wrist caught in his grip, Vivian completely forgot to react.
Julian let out a soft snort and retorted, "I only had some wine. Why are you treating me like an idiot?"
She wasn’t! Vivian protested inwardly. She twisted her wrist, and only then did he let go.
Vivian had very fair skin. After Julian’s firm grip and release, her wrist was left with a faint ring of red. His gaze lingered on the reddened skin for a moment before he suddenly seemed to remember something. His eyes shifted downward, trying to look at her ankle, but it was blocked from view by the sofa and her legs.
A wave of sudden irritability seemed to wash over him. Julian shifted a little closer, until his thigh was pressing against hers.
"Is it feeling better?" Julian asked, his gaze still directed downward.
Vivian could practically feel that Julian was speaking right against her ear. The side of her ear tickled, and she caught a faint whiff of red wine. The scent of the alcohol was enough to make even Vivian feel a little intoxicated. Fortunately, it wasn’t a cheap, overpowering stench. It was completely different from the sour reek of a blackout drunk, so she didn’t find it repulsive in the slightest.
"It’s much better," Vivian said, giving him a gentle push to make him scoot over.
The sofa was already so small. If he leaned in any closer, she wouldn’t have any room to sit! But Julian remained entirely unmoved. Like a stubborn child throwing a quiet tantrum, he stayed exactly where he was, maintaining an intimately close distance between them.
Vivian was speechless. There was absolutely nothing she could do with him right now. She had never expected this. Who knew that Julian Faulkner, the stern, aloof, and untouchable CEO, would act like this after a few drinks? He was actually somewhat childish.
Julian’s voice drifted past her ear once more. He let out a soft, shallow yawn, dropped his head onto Vivian’s shoulder, and muttered, "Tired. I’m sleepy."