Chapter 581 Running Out of Oil and the Lamp Dying Out
After she had gently blown on all his scars, Patricia wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her face against him, her breath warm on his skin as she softly murmured, "Blow on it, and it won't hurt anymore." The sound gradually faded until it was gone, her grip relaxing as she drifted off to sleep.
The room fell silent, filled only with their breathing. Patricia's breaths were deep and steady, while James' were heavier, as if he was holding something back.
Having shared a bed for so long, James knew the moment Patricia fell asleep, her earlier excitement giving way to the exhaustion, aided by the alcohol.
He sighed, a deep, weary sound, and let her rest against him for a moment before gently laying her flat on the bed. He found a pair of men's shorts and dressed her in them. Though the clothes were obviously too large for her, making her look almost childlike, there was an unintended allure to it.
James had to force himself not to look away as he tried to lift her, intending to tuck her into bed properly. But a sudden sharp pain in his throat stopped him, triggering a violent coughing fit.
The pain radiated from his chest, making it impossible for him to lift her. After several attempts, he had to give up, squatting by the bed, coughing relentlessly.
Alan, hearing the disturbance, voiced his concern from the doorway. "Boss, you okay? Should we head to the hospital?"
James, catching his breath, managed a hoarse, "I'm fine," despite the obvious evidence to the contrary.
He was acutely aware of his declining strength. Not long ago, carrying Patricia had been manageable, but now, even that small task was beyond him. Sweat soaked through his clothes, a testament to his exertion.
Alan, still worried, pressed further, "But you're coughing so hard. Are you sure you're alright?"
James, finally catching his breath, stood up laboriously and opened the door. Alan's worry deepened at the sight of him, drenched in sweat, a clear sign of his ill health.
"Boss, you're clearly not 'fine.' Look at you," Alan exclaimed, seeing James' condition.
James, ever stoic, gestured towards Patricia, now changed and lying on the bed. "She's all set. You can take her home now."
Alan's gaze shifted between James and Patricia, torn between concern for his boss and his duty to Patricia.
James put up a hand to silence Alan's protests. "I'll be alright, it's just an old issue flaring up. It's late; make sure she gets home safe, and then you should head back and get some rest yourself."
Alan was hesitant to leave James in this state.
James insisted, knowing the stakes. "She can't find out I'm living here. We can't undo all the work we've done. I can't have her go through that pain again."
That made Alan pause, torn by his loyalty and concern.
Without giving Alan more time to think it over, James attempted to lift Patricia from the bed but struggled.
Seeing this, Alan stepped in, taking Patricia into his arms with a heavy heart. "I'll make sure she gets home safe, boss. You can count on me."
James turned away, unable to watch, a quiet, "Thank you."
Alan gave James one last worried look, then, with Patricia in his arms, he headed for the elevator without turning back.
James waited until the elevator doors had closed before he let himself sag against the wall, staring out into the moonlit night, lost in thought.
Alan managed to get Patricia back to her place without waking anyone. He tucked her into bed, made sure she was comfortable, and left as quietly as he had come.
Aware that James would be anxious for an update, Alan sent a quick text once he was back in the elevator.
Alan: [Ms. Watson is safe at home.]
James responded immediately.
James: [Good.]
...
The next morning, Patricia stumbled into the bathroom, still groggy, only to be jolted fully awake by her reflection. She was wearing men's clothes, both the T-shirt and the shorts hanging off her in a comical fashion.
Blinking at her swollen, sleep-ridden eyes in the oversized outfit, she shook off the last vestiges of sleep and dashed back to her room to grab her phone.
The last thing she remembered was drinking with Jade at the bar. How on earth did she end up back home in men's clothes?
Every time she drank too much, the night turned into a blank slate, leaving her to piece things together the morning after.
The phone rang and rang until Jade finally picked up, her voice groggy with sleep.
"Hello?"
"Jade, it's me. Did you bring me home last night? And why am I dressed in...?"
Patricia's question was cut off by a sudden shriek from Jade, making Patricia wince and pull the phone away from her ear. When the yelling subsided, she cautiously brought it back.
"What's going on with you, Jade?"
"How did you end up in my room?"
Patricia was confused. "Jade, I'm in my own room!"
"You... You took advantage of me when I was out? I'm gonna kill you..."
The line went dead after more yelling, leaving Patricia in bewildered silence.
She pieced it together; Jade must have been taken home by someone, and things went sideways from there. But Jade's familiar tone with her accuser suggested she knew the guy well. Patricia figured this guy must know who brought her home, too. She decided to wait for Jade to cool off before pressing for details.
But she didn't have to wait long. After freshening up, Jade called back.
"Hey, sorry about earlier. What's up?"
Patricia didn't beat around the bush. "Who was with you this morning? What happened?"
Jade hesitated, then admitted, "It was Ryan."
Patricia was taken aback. "Ryan? You two were..."
Jade rushed to clarify, "No, it's not like that. We were both wasted at the bar, and Ryan, being there, offered to help. He didn't know my place, so we ended up at his. I freaked out this morning, thinking I was in my room."
Patricia relaxed, knowing Ryan was trustworthy. "So, he brought me home too?"
"No," Jade corrected. "You were too much for him to handle alone, so Alan took care of you."
"Alan?"
That made sense to Patricia. The clothes she woke up in must be Alan's then.
Considering she was inebriated, Alan must have arranged for someone to help her change, maintaining his usual respectfulness and ensuring nothing inappropriate happened.
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