Chapter 37
Theodore had drunk too much and was almost entirely leaning on Phoebe.
Water trickled down the corner of his mouth, and Phoebe quickly stopped feeding him water. After coaxing Theodore into drinking a whole glass of water, Phoebe was exhausted and out of breath, but she still thoughtfully wiped the water stains from the corner of his mouth.
"Drinking is bad for your health. Cut back on it," Phoebe said, wiping the water from Theodore's chin. Looking at his face, she couldn't help but express her concern.
Phoebe couldn't make sense of her own thoughts. She had promised herself that morning to stop worrying about Theodore, but when she saw him drunk and vulnerable, her resolve wavered.
Theodore's Adam's apple bobbed, and he felt parched again. He lay on the couch, squirming uncomfortably, then suddenly stood up, swaying unsteadily.
Phoebe quickly supported him, seeing that he seemed disoriented, and asked, "Do you need to go to the bathroom?"
Theodore nodded.
"I'll help you; take it slow." Phoebe put one of Theodore's arms over her shoulder and helped him toward the bathroom.
Phoebe staggered under Theodore's weight, her clothes disheveled, and sweat rolling down her forehead.
Finally managing to get Theodore to the bathroom, Phoebe let go of him, only to see him about to fall. She had to support him again.
Theodore unzipped his pants in front of her and said, "Thank you."
Phoebe rolled her eyes, thinking, ‘Isn't it awkward to say thank you at a time like this?'
She quickly turned around, using her back to support Theodore's back. The sound of water splashing filled her ears, and her face turned bright red.
They had been married for three years and had done more intimate things, but this was the first time she had helped Theodore use the bathroom. She felt both embarrassed and ashamed.
After he finished, Phoebe, suppressing her embarrassment, washed Theodore's hands and then helped him back to the couch.
At this moment, Theodore was as docile as a well-trained puppy, devoid of his usual unruliness. He sat on the couch, leaning back, and said, "Thank you."
The redness on Theodore's cheeks hadn't completely faded. He had this innocent look, sitting all proper, which was a far cry from his usual chilled-out self around her.
"Do you want some more water?" Phoebe's heart softened at Theodore's obedience, worried he would feel uncomfortable from the alcohol.
She had heard that drunk people get very thirsty, so she thought of giving Theodore more water.
Phoebe picked up the glass on the coffee table, only to find it empty. She went to refill it, and Theodore took it, gulping it down in a few swigs.
Holding the empty glass, Theodore didn't lie down. After two glasses of water, he seemed a bit more sober, at least able to sit steadily without toppling over.
Phoebe said, "Do you want to sleep for a while? We can go home after you wake up."
Theodore suddenly seemed realized something. He looked up, staring at Phoebe with a dazed expression.
He murmured, "I don't want to sleep here. I want to go home. Take me home."
Phoebe looked down at him and realized he wasn't looking at her eyes but at her chest.
Phoebe glanced down and saw that one of her shirt buttons had popped open.
She gasped, glaring at Theodore, and quickly pulled her shirt together, fumbling to button it up.
Phoebe saw Theodore hurriedly turn his head away, his throat moving as if he were very thirsty.
Phoebe took the glass, poured herself some water, and drank it down. Then she walked back to the couch and extended her hand to Theodore. With a stern face, she said, "Get up, Mr. Reynolds, we're going home."
Phoebe didn't understand why Theodore was still insisted on going home so late at night. He could have just slept here and gone back in the morning.
But Theodore was naturally very stubborn, especially when drunk. He wouldn't listen to anyone, which was why Patrick had been forced to call her.
Theodore placed his hand in Phoebe's, his large palm making her hand look especially small. With no other choice, Phoebe used all her strength to help Theodore up. Their bodies pressed closely together as they staggered toward the door.
Fortunately, Theodore had regained some of his senses by now; otherwise, with Phoebe's limited strength, she wouldn't have been able to support him very far.
By the time they got back to the apartment, it was already 2:30 AM. Phoebe managed to get Theodore onto the bed, and she was so exhausted.
Sitting by the bed for a while, Phoebe finally caught her breath. Her shirt was soaked with sweat. After resting a bit, she went to the bathroom to take a shower.
Theodore was already fast asleep on the bed.
Phoebe went to the kitchen to pour a glass of water and placed it on the bedside table for Theodore. Then she went around to the other side and lay down. After a long and tiring day, Phoebe was exhausted and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
The next morning, Phoebe was jolted awake by a loud thud. She sat up abruptly.
She shouted, "Explosion? Earthquake? Theodore, run!"
She turned her head and saw that the bed beside her was empty, with some residual warmth on the sheets, indicating that Theodore had just gotten up. Phoebe thought Theodore might still be hungover and had tripped over something on his way to the bathroom. She quickly got out of bed, put on her slippers, and walked out.
The hallway was filled with the smell of burnt food.
Who was setting the kitchen on fire? Phoebe frowned and hurriedly ran toward the kitchen.
She hustled and made it to the kitchen door in no time.
Theodore stood in the kitchen, wearing suit pants that wrapped around his long, straight legs, and a black shirt, exuding an aura of unapproachability.
What was out of place was that he was wearing a pink checkered apron and holding a spatula. A frying pan had fallen to the floor, with a charred lump inside, emitting thick smoke and a choking burnt smell.
Phoebe said helplessly, "Are you making chemical weapons?"
Theodore hadn't noticed anyone behind him and was clearly startled. When he saw it was Phoebe, his expression became a mix of embarrassment and awkwardness.
Theodore held the spatula firmly, the veins on his hand standing out. "I was trying to whip up some breakfast for you."
Phoebe looked at the charred lump in the pan and said with lingering fear, "I thought you finally couldn't stand me and wanted to poison me."
Theodore looked up at her, displeased.
Phoebe walked in, bent down to pick up the frying pan, and placed it in the sink. She then took the spatula from Theodore's hand. When their fingers touched, a sudden jolt ran through them, making them both pause.
Phoebe felt a strange flutter in her heart. She put the spatula in the sink and quickly avoided his gaze, trying to stay calm. "You go out; I'll make breakfast."
Theodore stood nearby, rubbing his fingers but not leaving the kitchen.
Although Theodore had been drunk last night, his mind was still clear enough to know what Phoebe had done for him.
When he woke up in the morning and saw Phoebe's tired face, he wanted to do something to make it up to her.
They had been married for three years, and Phoebe had always taken care of him. He realized he had never done anything for her.
Theodore thought cooking would be simple, but it turned out to be much harder than he expected.
He decided to make the simplest thing—fried eggs, but he still overestimated his cooking skills. Even the simplest fried eggs ended up burnt to a crisp.
Phoebe's fried eggs were a beautiful golden yellow, while his looked like they could be a chemical weapon.
Phoebe glanced at him, intending to urge him to leave, but then she noticed a burn on Theodore's right pinky finger.
She quickly walked over and took Theodore's hand. "Did you burn your hand?"
Theodore's face turned red, and he awkwardly pulled his hand back. "It's nothing. I ran it under cold water."
After seeing the eggs burn, Theodore had tried to quickly dump them out, and in the chaos, his finger got burned on the edge of the pan. But how could he admit to something embarrassing like that?
Phoebe grabbed Theodore's wrist and led him out of the kitchen. "Sit down; I'll treat your burn."
"It's no big deal," Theodore refused, but Phoebe shot him a glare.
For the first time in his life, Theodore was intimidated by Phoebe and immediately became compliant, feeling a sense of defeat inside.
"Phoebe, do you think I'm useless?"
