Chapter 12: What Did You Say? Hm? Divorce?

The most awkward thing after sobering up is remembering the outrageous things one did while drunk.

Clara opened her eyes and found herself clinging to Julian like a koala. She was so scared she didn't even dare move her eyes.

Images from the night before flooded her mind like a tide: the quiet car, the dim yellow shadows, the breath within reach, and those faint red, thin lips...

She had actually... proactively kissed Julian!

Her head "buzzed," and she wished she could develop instant amnesia.

Good heavens, was she actually a pervert at heart, and the alcohol had simply released her inner nature?

Clara felt like crying but had no tears. Sensing the heat beneath her, she carefully lifted her head, wanting to sneak out of bed. The moment she moved, her waist was suddenly tightened.

She slowly looked up and met a pair of eyes that were already awake. The man’s eyes were pitch black, like deep pools—calm on the surface, but with undercurrents surging beneath.

"Awake?"

"...Mm." Clara gave a dry smile. "Morning."

"Do you remember what happened last night?"

Clara lowered her eyes, her voice so thin it was almost inaudible. "I remember."

A faint smile rippled in the depths of Julian’s eyes.

"I'm sorry—" Clara apologized with a flushed face. "I was drunk. I didn't mean to... take liberties with you."

She kept her head down and didn't see his expression grow cold bit by bit.

Very good.

She kissed him, held him all night, and finally summed it up with a light "I was drunk."

"Then the way you snuggled into my arms after falling asleep," Julian’s tone was chilly, "was that also the alcohol's doing?"

Hearing this, Clara thought he was angry. she hurriedly moved back until she reached the edge of the bed, then explained with an apologetic look: "I'm sorry. I have a habit of hugging something while I sleep. I used to always hug my rubber duck..."

She paused and looked around. "Huh, where is my duck?"

She turned and saw the rubber duck lying lonely on the window seat. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Maybe because I couldn't find it on the bed last night, I accidentally hugged you..."

Julian’s face was tense, anger building in his chest.

So that was it.

He was merely a "substitute."

Wonderful!

"I really didn't mean it..." she added softly.

Julian closed his eyes and opened them again, his gaze having regained its composure.

"Fine."

"Say no more."

He flipped out of bed and walked straight into the bathroom.

Clara sat on the bed clutching the quilt, wanting to cry.

He wouldn't think she was intentionally using the alcohol to get close to him, would he? Heaven and earth be my witness, she had always firmly remembered the last clause of the marriage agreement—thou shalt not fall in love with the other party.

The more Clara thought about it, the more uneasy she became. She washed up with a restless mind.

The two went downstairs one after the other and sat across from each other at the dining table—one with a cold expression, the other awkward and helpless.

Mrs. Martha, seeing the atmosphere wasn't right, hid in her room after serving breakfast, leaving the space to the two of them.

Breakfast ended in an incredibly eerie silence.

Clara finally couldn't help but say softly, "Then—I'll go home to see my grandfather first."

Julian set down his fork and knife, looking up at her. "It’s still early."

"Come to the study with me. I have something to say to you."

He walked toward the study, and Clara followed behind.

The door was closed. He leaned against the desk behind him with his arms crossed and his legs overlapped, adopting a condescending posture.

He was tall, a full head taller than Clara. This stance made him look even more oppressive.

Clara instinctively straightened her back, but her fingertips secretly gripped her skirt.

"About last night," he finally spoke, his tone cold and hard, "I am very angry."

Her heart thudded.

"Your behavior seriously violated our agreement."

The hope in Clara’s heart finally died.

She hung her head, her voice muffled. "I understand. I’ll have the lawyer discuss the divorce proceedings, and I’ll move all my things out today—"

"What did you say?" He narrowed his eyes, a dangerous cold light flashing in the depths of his gaze. "Hm? Divorce?"

Clara was stunned. "Then what did you mean?"

"Clara Jiang," he addressed her by her full name, his words sharp, "You should not drink to the point of unconsciousness in a bar without security. This is extremely irresponsible to yourself and to this family."

Clara instinctively argued, "My friend was with me. He would have looked after me."

"Him?" A cold sneer escaped the corner of Julian’s lips. "He couldn't even stand steadily himself; how was he supposed to look after you? Besides, with his physique, if you really encountered danger, what use would he be?"

Clara couldn't help but frown, her voice turning a bit colder. "Hey, if you want to talk about me, talk about me. Why involve my friend?"

Julian’s chest heaved slightly. "Are you arguing with me now because of him?"

This was the first time Clara had seen him show such an expression. She was stunned for a good while before explaining seriously: "He’s my childhood friend. We grew up together. He is a very important person to me."

After those words fell, the study became terrifyingly quiet.

Julian’s gaze stayed on her face. He said nothing; just his staring created an oppressive pressure like a surging tide, sweeping over everything and making it hard to breathe.

Yes, Leo was her childhood friend with deep feelings—he was an important person to her.

And he, who had known her for barely seven days, what did he count for...

Sensing his abnormality, Clara took a soft breath and softened her tone: "I think we both have bad emotions right now; it's not a good time to continue talking. How about this: I’ll go home first, and we can talk after we both cool down."

Julian remained silent.

Clara pursed her lips and turned to leave.

By the time she finished packing and walked to the garage, she immediately saw that tall figure leaning against the car.

Julian pulled open the car door. "Get in."

Clara was a bit surprised. "You... are coming with me?"

He didn't look at her, only saying with a cold face, "I won't go back on what I promised you."

Clara sat inside and couldn't help but steal a glance at him. The more she looked, the more she found him awkward—awkward in a way that was almost cute.

She couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Julian glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "What are you laughing at?"

"Laughing at how cute you are," she said bluntly.

"..." Julian’s hand on the steering wheel tightened slightly.

Cute?

In twenty-eight years of life, this was the first time he had been called cute by a girl younger than him.

Ridiculous.

Yet... it inexplicably caused a flicker of excitement in his heart.

He gave a cold snort. "Fasten your seatbelt."

"Okay." Clara buckled her seatbelt and fished a lemon candy out of her bag, peeling off the wrapper and popping it into her mouth.

After a thought, she took out another one and held it out in front of Julian. "Want a candy?"

Julian glanced at it.

A clean palm, a bright yellow wrapper—small and lovely.

"I'm driving."

Did that mean he wanted it or not? Clara wasn't quite sure of his meaning. After a thought, she peeled the wrapper and fed the candy to his lips.

Julian looked straight ahead, lowered his head slightly, and opened his lips to take the candy in.

A wave of sweet-tart flavor spread through his mouth.

He leaned back comfortably against the seat, his long fingers lightly tapping the steering wheel, slowly savoring that sweet-tartness.

Clara withdrew her hand, her fingers curling unnaturally. Her fingertips seemed to have touched a bit of moisture; she didn't know whether to wipe it off or not...

Outside the car window, plane tree leaves whirled gently in the wind. Pale yellow shadows of light fell dappled into the car, and the air seemed to be stained with the sweet-tart fragrance of lemon candy.