On the Ruins of His Regret I Soar novel Chapter 173

Jessica frowned, her drunken state making her look oddly innocent. “Do I know you?”

Nathan pinched his nose and peered into the apartment. “How much did you two drink?”

Jessica threw out an arm, blocking his view. “Don’t look,” she slurred. “It’s rude!”

Nathan was speechless.

George gently pulled Jessica toward him, but she suddenly started flailing. “Hey! Pervert! I will punish you in the name of the moon!”

Nathan burst out laughing.

Jessica’s fist landed harmlessly on George’s shoulder. He didn’t even flinch, instead reaching up to gently squeeze her cheek. Her face was so thin there was barely any flesh on it. “Go back to bed,” he said softly.

Jessica’s eyes went wide as she stared at him. She suddenly leaned in close. George instinctively tilted back as her forehead brushed against his chin. “Are we close?” she mumbled. “Why would I sleep with you? I’m not sleeping with you. Go away.”

Nathan had to clutch his stomach to keep from howling with laughter.

“Alright, I’m going,” George said, his tone patient. “You go back to sleep.”

Nathan looked at him in disbelief.

Jessica retreated, peeking at him from behind the door.

George smiled. “Go on. Sleep.”

She giggled and slammed the door shut.

“I can’t believe this,” Nathan complained as they walked to the elevator. “I run all over town with you tonight, and you don’t give me a single smile. She tells you to get lost, and you’re grinning like an idiot.”

George turned and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks.”

The simple word caught Nathan off guard. It was the first time he’d ever heard George say it. He felt a little flustered, rubbing his ear and clearing his throat. “It’s nothing. We’re friends. It’s what I’m here for.”

Nathan fell silent.

…

At Willowbrook Gardens, the police arrived just before Lance Smith could break the lock. The smell of alcohol on him was overwhelming. “This is my house! My wife lives here! Why can’t I go in?” he slurred.

The officer frowned. “Let me see your ID.”

Lance stumbled to his car and returned with his driver’s license. The officer glanced at the name and immediately recognized him as one of the central figures in the recent scandal.

A small smile played on the officer’s lips. “Ah, Mr. Smith. But didn’t your company just release your signed divorce papers? Which wife of yours lives here, exactly?”

The mention of the divorce papers seemed to sober Lance up. He stood frozen, unable to speak.

“Not only are you attempting to break and enter,” the officer continued, “but you also drove here drunk. You’ll have to come with us.”