You Looked Down on Me Once Now You Look Up (Patricia and Oliver) novel Chapter 703

Oliver had been swamped for days, coming home late every night, always smelling of alcohol. At first, Patricia didn’t really notice. It wasn’t until one night, when she couldn’t sleep and heard movement downstairs, that she realized something was off.

Just as she was about to step down the stairs, she heard Johns’s voice from the living room. “Sir, if you keep drinking like this every night, your health is going to take a hit. Madam would be heartbroken.”

Oliver laughed quietly, a little bitter. “Do you see her caring?”

When Jackson got injured, Patricia had gone to check on him every couple of days. But with Oliver, no matter how late he dragged himself home, she never waited up. She never checked on him, even when he’d obviously had too much to drink.

Patricia stood on the stairs for a moment, sighed, then finally went down. “Johns, did you make the hangover soup yet?”

“Yes, yes, I did. I’ll go get it. If you could just keep an eye on the master, ma’am.” Johns nodded quickly and dashed off before she could say another word.

Patricia walked over, standing in front of Oliver, who was slouched on the sofa looking completely wiped out. She hesitated, then asked quietly, “Want some water?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

She poured him a glass and handed it over. Her voice was gentle. “It’s not like I don’t care about you. I know you’ve been busy with the government stuff, all those meetings and dinners.”

He looked at her. “How do you know?”

“I saw it on the news.” She wasn’t clueless. Her husband had been coming home late, reeking of booze, for a week straight. If she really didn’t care, that would mean they were headed for divorce, or worse. They weren’t there yet.

“Drink up,” she said, offering the bowl to Oliver.

He stared at the soup, then slowly looked up at her. His face was calm, but he didn’t reach for the bowl. His eyes were full of silent complaint, almost like he was waiting for her to give in.

Patricia got the message. He wanted her to feed him.

She coaxed him gently, keeping her tone light. “Come on, drink it yourself. It’s not easy to feed you, and if I try, you’ll just end up more drunk.” She smiled softly. “Be good, okay?”

Oliver leaned in a little closer, dodging the bowl. His voice was low and rough, sending a shiver right through her. “If I’m good, will you pay attention to me?”