Chapter 687 Drunken Dreams
Lawrence was still face-down in the mud, not moving an inch. His once crisp white shirt was now a mess, and his usually handsome face was all banged up. His lips were pressed tight, like he was holding back some serious pain.
In short, he looked like a total wreck.
'The Lawrence I know is a badass—strong, classy, with that icy, untouchable vibe. Even when he's not dressed to the nines, he's got this clean, magnetic aura. But now? He's got stubble on his chin, and his sharp features look dead. What the hell happened to him? Is it 'cause the Rodriguez Group went under? He’s not the type to get knocked out by one hit,' Winnie thought.
"Hey. Wake up." Winnie bent down and gave him a nudge, reluctantly calling his name, "Lawrence, you still know who I am?"
The totally wasted Lawrence opened his eyes, all dazed. His eyelashes, usually sharp enough to cut, were now drooping, covering his deep-set eyes.
He couldn't make out who was in front of him. Her gorgeous face seemed to blur in and out, but the familiar scent hit his nose, making him realize it was a woman he knew well.
It felt like his dead heart was beating again.
Her voice sounded just like Winnie's.
"Winnie, why are you here?" He grimaced in pain, giving her a weak smile, thinking he was dreaming, "Is it night now? I love the night. Only at night can I dream of you, and only in dreams will you come to me, not hating me, not yelling at me, even giving me a smile."
Winnie pressed her lips together, at a loss for words.
Listening to his drunken ramblings, she felt a bit uneasy, her mind spinning.
She decided to ignore his drunken state and said coldly, "Get up."
But Lawrence didn't budge.
Winnie was speechless, cursing inwardly, 'Is he totally wasted?'
Seeing him all banged up, she bit her lip, unable to just leave him there.
Finally, she bent down and helped him up.
Lawrence wobbled, trying to push away her small hand, cautiously and tenderly saying, "Don't touch me, Winnie. I'm dirty. Don't get your hands dirty too."
"Stop talking nonsense." Winnie had to hold onto his flailing hand and asked, "Where are you staying now? I'll call you a cab."
But she felt something warm on her hand, and looking down, she saw two nasty knife wounds on his palm, bleeding like crazy.
Her heart skipped a beat, her gaze becoming complicated. Finally, she couldn't help but say, "Forget it, I'll take you back."
"No need, it's so late. You should go back and be with the kids," Lawrence mumbled incoherently, stumbling forward, trying to push her away.
But their hands were tangled up, and they couldn't separate for a moment.
Winnie felt he might fall any second.
She frowned, holding back for a while, but couldn't stand it anymore. Frustrated, she forcefully dragged him across the street and stuffed him into her car.
She sent a text to Melanie, lying that she had something to do, and then left in a hurry.
She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Lawrence lying on the back seat. He was so tall that the once spacious seat now seemed cramped, his long legs bent awkwardly.
Winnie smelled the overwhelming scent of alcohol, speechless, wondering how he could drink himself into this state.
Passing by a pharmacy, she pulled over and dashed inside to grab some iodine, gauze, and ointment.
Figuring she couldn't ask him where he lived now, Winnie headed straight to a business hotel.
After a serious struggle, she managed to haul the heavy Lawrence into the elevator and up to a room, tossing him onto the sofa.
Panting like she just ran a marathon, she dropped the bag of meds, thinking he could handle it himself when he woke up.
But then she glanced at his cracked lips and those gnarly knife wounds on his palm. Out of sheer kindness, she went to the bathroom to run some water.
When the tub was almost full, she dragged him in, coldly.
Seeing his muddy clothes, Winnie frowned but finally gave in and took off his shirt.
Lawrence's ripped physique was on full display, his chest and abs still looking like a fitness model's dream.
Winnie averted her gaze, her eyes cold and indifferent.
But out of the corner of her eye, she spotted something white below his abs.
'Is that gauze? Is his waist injured? Bentley did say he was seriously hurt before being released for medical treatment. Now, his pants are a muddy mess, wet and full of bacteria. If not cleaned, it might get infected, right?' she thought.
Winnie really didn't want to change his pants.
But fearing infection, she finally took off his trousers.
His strong legs twitched slightly, and he mumbled in discomfort.
Winnie pulled her hand back, afraid he'd wake up and things would get super awkward.
She was about to get up but then noticed the gauze seemed to be peeking through his underwear.
She paused, tugging at his underwear.
Then she saw it—his penis was wrapped in gauze.
Winnie's breath caught, her eyes widening in shock. She felt like she just stumbled upon something huge.
'Isn't his waist injured? Why is there gauze on his penis? Is he hurt there?'
Her mind went blank, like she got hit by a truck! Staring at the gauze, she couldn't believe it. 'How could he be injured there? Is his current drunken, fallen state because he's... emasculated?'
Winnie instinctively leaned closer, wanting to check with her hand.
"Winnie," Lawrence, by the bathtub, opened his eyes, his misty, deep gaze locking onto her, like he was engraving her into his heart.
Lawrence blinked repeatedly, confirming the person in front of him wasn't a hallucination.
He laughed hoarsely, "Winnie, you haven't disappeared. This dream is lasting too long tonight. Why are you looking at me like that, Winnie?"
He laughed, but his eyes turned red, like a kid who lost his favorite toy, helpless and lost. His big hand gripped her small hand in the air, pulling her close, holding her waist, his voice choked, "I consider you my forever wife, but I can only love you silently in my heart. Even if you were willing to come back to me, I wouldn't be worthy of you anymore. Don't look at me like that, like you pity me. Everything is my own doing, but there are some things you don't know.
Winnie, you don't know my feelings."
Winnie struggled to break free from him!
But despite his severe injuries, she couldn't push Lawrence away and ended up pinned down by him.
She didn't want to be tangled up with him and listen to his drunken ramblings, so she said coldly, "Let go."
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