Chapter 1231
Raising his glass, he beckoned to her, “Drink up.”
Hertha glared at him furiously, snatched the glass from his hand and said with a huff, “Fine, I’ll drink! Here’s to you and Georgia tying the knot and popping out a bunch of kids soon!”
With that, she downed the whiskey in one gulp.
“Hey…” Seeing her knock it back, Alaric wanted to stop her, but it was already too late.
Whiskey is strong stuff, and she was going to get drunk fast.
The fiery liquor scorched Hertha, making her grimace in discomfort.
Alaric couldn’t help but chuckle at the array of expressions crossing Hertha’s face, “You know, anyone would think you’re drowning your sorrows over my engagement to Georgia rather than offering congratulations.”
His teasing words were taken to heart by Hertha.
Inside, Hertha felt as if she had been doused with spirits, a burning bitterness spreading rapidly through her chest, far more intense than the spiciness on her tongue.
Compared to the intoxication in her heart, the taste in her mouth seemed quite mild.
Hertha fought through the discomfort and lifted her eyes. A mist began to form in her eyes as she looked across at Alaric.
It was hard to tell if the tears were from the alcohol or a broken heart.
Seeing her like this, Alaric’s teasing manner faded, replaced by seriousness as he looked
at her intently.
“Hertha, you…”
“I’ve had my drink, why aren’t you drinking then?” Hertha’s grip tightened as she stared him down, “I sincerely wish you and Georgia all the best – won’t you do the same for me and Spencer?”
Her words were sharp, a facade masking her inner turmoil.
Alaric’s eyes flickered, noticing the tears brimming in hers. He had been concerned about her, but her statement turned his worry into a lump in his throat
She truly wanted to be with Spencer. She didn’t want to take any chances with others’ blessings.
Otherwise, it was as if they were cursing her love.
Alaric swallowed hard, his grip on his glass tightening, “Of course, I wish you two all the
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Chapter 1231
best!”
With that, he tipped his head back and finished his drink in one go.
He had just been laughing at Hertha for drinking in a way that would get her drunk, and now he had made the same move, blissfully unaware.
He poured another round for both Hertha and himself.
Both were insistent on toasting each other, their pride at stake, drinking glass after glass.
Soon, ten bottles of whiskey were emptied.
Hertha collapsed, passed out on the table.
Alaric, slightly more lucid, tapped her cheek lightly, “Hey, Hertha, get up and go on drinking, or don’t you want to toast to my happiness?”
There was no response from Hertha. She was deep in a drunken slumber.
With his face flushed, Alaric chuckled drunkenly, “Ha, I knew you’d get wasted. What woman can hold her liquor like that? Coming to the bar by yourself all the time, aren’t you afraid of danger? Wait here, I’ll take you home.”
He stood up, staggered over to Hertha, lifted her from the table, and slung her arm over his shoulder, leading her out of the bar.
At that moment, Georgia and her friends walked into the bar, brushing past Alaric.
Georgia recognized him instantly and was about to call out to him when she saw him supporting another woman, and Alaric himself looked none too sober.
Georgia’s expression darkened, the greeting stuck in her throat, unspoken.
“Hey, isn’t that your fiancé Alaric? He’s with another woman. Aren’t you going to follow them?” Georgia’s friend nudged her, urging her to take action.
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