Chapter 23
After sending Stacey away, I returned to the dining table. Eating alone had never been enjoyable, but it was late, and I didn’t feel like heading out. After a few bites, I lost my appetite and decided to return to my bedroom.
Ashton hadn’t come back, and there wasn’t much else to occupy my time. Over the past two days, I had been reading and searching online for houses in Q City. If I planned to move there, I needed a decent place to live—for myself and my child.
A sudden phone call interrupted my thoughts. It was Macy. The moment I answered, my ears rang from her furious yelling before I could even get a word in.
“You damned woman! Did you really abort the child?”
It had only been a few days. “Yeah. How did you find out?”
Macy was livid. “How did I find out? You have the nerve to ask me that? Do you even consider me your friend? How could you go through something like this without telling me?”
There was no arguing with Macy when she was this angry. I rubbed my temples, feeling a slight headache coming on. “Dragging it out would’ve only made things worse, so I took care of it as soon as possible. I wanted to tell you, but you’ve been busy. I figured I’d wait a couple more days.”
“Don’t give me that bullsh*t! I’m not against abortion, but don’t you need someone to take care of you afterward? What if something happened?” Her words were sharp, but I could hear the concern beneath her anger.
A warmth spread in my heart. Macy had always been protective of me. I let her scold me for a while before finally speaking. “Macy, I’m planning to divorce Ashton. I might leave J City after that. Do you want to leave too?”
I chose not to tell her the truth about the child just yet—there was no point. But I had to let her know about my plans to move. Macy had stayed in J City because of me; if I left without a word, she’d never forgive me.
She was silent for a long moment before finally asking, “When are you leaving? Where to?”
“In a few months, maybe sooner. I’ve been looking at places in Q City.”
“Alright. Got it,” she responded without hesitation.
I was surprised by her immediate agreement. Assuming the conversation was over, I was about to hang up when she suddenly spoke again.
“Come get your man. He’s totally wasted.”
I froze. “Ashton?”
“What other man would you have apart from him?” she scoffed.
I didn’t know how to respond.
Why did Ashton get himself drunk? Ending the call, I grabbed my coat and headed straight for Macy’s bar.
Hour Bar wasn’t far from the villa, so I arrived in about ten minutes. Inside, Macy was perched at the counter, sipping her drink with an exasperated look.
“He’s upstairs in the private room,” she said, setting down her glass. “Completely knocked out.”
I frowned. “Why did he come here to drink?”
“How would I know? He’s been coming over the past two nights, but that hunky assistant of his always dragged him home before he got drunk. The assistant isn’t here today, so your man went all out.” Macy shot me a look before adding, “You got rid of the child without talking to him. What makes you think he’d be in a good mood?”
I was taken aback. Was Ashton really that upset over the child?
I headed upstairs and found the private room. Knocking twice with no response, I opened the door.
The room was filled with the stench of alcohol and cigarettes. I left the door ajar to let the air circulate before stepping inside.
Under the dim lighting, Ashton lounged on the sofa, his eyes closed, lips slightly parted. He didn’t look drunk—just resting. But the sight of several empty whiskey bottles told a different story.
“Ashton.”
At the sound of my voice, his eyelashes fluttered, and his cold gaze landed on me.
The atmosphere shifted instantly, his expression growing even more contemptuous.
“Get out,” he ordered in a low, hoarse voice.
I sighed, stepping closer. “You’ve had too much to drink. Let’s go home.”
His lips curled into a smirk. “Home? Is that what you’d call it?”
I frowned. My temper had been short lately, likely due to the pregnancy. Normally, I would have endured his hostility, but this time, I couldn’t help but snap back. “If that isn’t home, then what is it? If you don’t want to see me, Ashton, I can call Rebecca and have her pick you up. Macy has a business to run—stop causing trouble for her.”
Suddenly, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me onto his lap. His arms locked around my waist, preventing me from escaping.
Then, he reached down my collar, his touch rough and punishing. A cold chuckle escaped him.
“Home will never be home as long as you’re there,” he sneered. “I’d say it’s more like… an inn.”