Please Let Me Go, My Contracted Ex-Husband.-Chapter 195 - - are you concerned about me?

Though she felt melancholy, she still smiled and wished Vivian happiness. Vivian said she wanted Olive to be the flower girl at her wedding, and Cynthia readily agreed.

That girl was so lively and clever, with a delicate, beautiful face. Everyone adored her, especially Rannie, who practically wanted to adopt her as her own daughter.

But Olive was indeed easy to care for. Aside from her occasional tearful outbursts, she was wonderful in every other way. Just thinking of Olive made Cynthia's heart soften, and a gentle smile unconsciously appeared on her lips, causing her to forget most of the unpleasantness from earlier.

When the meal finally ended, the large group headed off to a KTV to have some fun. Outside the hotel, everyone clung to their wives and got into their respective cars. Vivian said she would ride with Bonnie in James's car, leaving Cynthia standing outside, unsure of what to do.

She had come in Albert's car, so logically, he should be the one to take her home. But after the tense confrontation at dinner, she suddenly felt afraid to face him.

She hadn't looked at him once during the entire meal, but she could still feel his gaze on her the whole night, filled with deep pain and unspoken sorrow.

Wrapped in her coat, she stood there, watching as a silver-gray car slowly approached and parked in front of her. The window rolled down, revealing his sculpted profile and the neatly styled short hair. He didn't turn to look at her; instead, he quietly gripped the steering wheel and stared ahead, his face calm with no visible expression.

She remembered how he had been drinking one glass after another at dinner. Frowning slightly, she walked over and knocked on the car window. It rolled down, and once again, he didn't turn to look at her, but she could smell the strong scent of alcohol.

She sighed lightly and spoke softly:

"Albert, you've been drinking. Let me drive instead."

He remained in the same position, unresponsive. She felt a little awkward as they stood there in silence. After a while, just as she was about to speak again, he suddenly reached up, unbuckled his seatbelt, and opened the door to get out. She quickly stepped back to avoid being hit by the door.

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He didn't say a word of apology as he walked away, likely realizing that he was too drunk to drive. However, after taking just one step, he staggered and almost lost his balance, nearly falling. Cynthia quickly stepped forward to steady him.

She looked at him, his eyes hazy with drunkenness, and kindly spoke:

"Are you okay? How about I take you home first?"

"Go away—!"

Without even glancing at her, he coldly shrugged her off and staggered toward the passenger side. She had no choice but to sit in the driver's seat and drive him to his destination.

Throughout the drive, he kept his eyes closed, leaning against the window with one arm draped over it, his hand supporting his forehead. While waiting at a red light, Cynthia glanced at him and noticed that, beneath his usual carefree demeanor, there was a hint of melancholy.

She wasn't sure what emotion she was feeling. Seeing him look so lost and in pain, she should have been happy, right? But why did her heart feel so sour?

She pursed her lips, suppressed all her emotions, and turned back to focus on the road.

A group of people were singing and having fun, and she sat in the corner chatting with Rannie and the wives of the third and fourth young masters. Among the women, only Monica, Bonnie, and Shucan could go wild, fighting with the men for the microphone to become the karaoke kings and queens.

Cynthia watched the lively scene before her and suddenly felt a wave of melancholy. There were so many happy people in this world, yet she alone wasn't one of them. However, she quickly gave a self-deprecating smile. In truth, who could she blame for bringing herself to this point?

She wasn't without company; when she thought about it, how was Quinn any less than this man? Whether it was looks, physique, abilities, or family background, he was every bit her equal.

Most importantly, he treated her well, and he treated Olive well, but she could never fully accept him. Otherwise, they wouldn't have spent so many years in an empty marriage.

In the corner, two men sat quietly, one was James, and the other, of course, was Albert. Both men sat there, swirling their glasses, lost in their own thoughts as they watched their respective women.

Cynthia remained calm, while Bonnie was somewhat wild. One of her favorite sayings was: "Others laugh at me for being too crazy, but I laugh at others for not seeing through it!" James watched as she passionately screamed "I'll love you even if I die," remembering her words, and couldn't help but smile with affectionate indulgence.

Bonnie finally stopped shouting, out of breath, and collapsed into the group of women sitting next to Cynthia. She clung to Vivian and, in a hoarse voice, whispered in complaint:

"I'm done for, my voice is completely ruined now, sob sob..."

The group of women burst into laughter at her comical antics. She, in turn, snuggled closer to Vivian, but her gaze accidentally met her husband's passionate and loving stare. Immediately, she stiffened, quickly turning her eyes away and pretending not to notice.

"Cynthia, um... Cynthia, come sing with us!" Monica, who was already somewhat tipsy, held up the microphone and called out to Cynthia.

Cynthia waved her hand and smiled, saying, "I'll pass, my singing is so bad and always off-key!"

The whole night was filled with noise and laughter. When Cynthia returned home, she took a quick shower and was about to go to bed. However, as she lay there, sleep eluded her, and she tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. She started thinking about the little girl again, wondering if she was sleeping well, missing her smooth little backside and delicate body.

Just as she was finally about to drift off to sleep, the doorbell suddenly rang loudly. Startled, she quickly got up, put on her sleepwear, and hurried to the door. When she looked through the peephole, her brows furrowed slightly at the sight of the visitor.

Outside, Jim was anxiously pressing the doorbell repeatedly, while Albert, who was completely drunk, was leaning against Jim, his head tilted back and exhaling heavy alcohol breath.

"What's going on? Why is no one answering? James said he already dropped Cynthia off at home!" Jim mumbled to himself as he continued pressing the doorbell.

Considering it was the middle of the night and Jim's persistent ringing might disturb the neighbors, Cynthia had no choice but to open the door. However, as soon as she opened it, Jim quickly shoved the drunken man into her arms, urgently saying, "Cynthia, I originally wanted to take him to the mansion, but he insisted on finding you and refused to get out of the car. I had no choice but to bring him here!"

With Jim's great force and Albert's full weight leaning on her, Cynthia was knocked backward several steps before she could steady herself. Before she could say anything, Jim, almost on the verge of tears, clasped his hands together, pleading with her, "I'm leaving Cynthia, it's all yours now. There's another drunken woman I have to deal with downstairs, please, please!"

Jim quickly disappeared down the stairs. "Oh my god, that damned woman in the car is even harder to handle. These two siblings are really going to drive me crazy!"

"Hey, Jim—"

Cynthia shouted angrily at Jim, but he was already out of sight.

Fuming, she stomped her foot in frustration, but there was nothing she could do. The man was still slumped heavily against her shoulder, nearly dislocating it. She tried pushing him, calling his name several times.

"Albert? Albert?"

But there was no response, and she guessed he had probably passed out. Helpless, she kicked the door shut with her foot and carefully wrapped her arms around his slim waist, struggling to move him toward the guest bedroom.

After walking a few steps, he suddenly called out softly in her ear.

"Cynthia!"

She was startled and quickly stopped in her tracks. She thought he might still be conscious, so she was about to push him away, but he mumbled something else under his breath.

"Olive!"

Then he continued to call out their names, over and over again.

"Cynthia, Olive, Olive, Cynthia, I love you both—"

Her chest tightened with pain. Standing there, supporting his full weight, she froze. He repeated her and Olive's names, and she understood his meaning—it meant that she and Olive were the most important people in his life!

But Albert, is it too late to say this now?

She remained frozen, and then she felt a sudden lightness as he stood up and staggered forward on his own, still calling out her and Olive's names.

However, his eyes weren't working properly, and he kicked the side of the cabinet, immediately wincing in pain. Cynthia rushed forward to catch him.

"You've had too much to drink, let me help you."

He squinted his drunken eyes at her, then mumbled softly.

"Cynthia? Are you Cynthia?"

Looking at her plain face, a glimmer of surprise began to surface in his blurry gaze. He even reached out to gently stroke her small face.

"Cynthia, are you concerned about me?"