Jay was more or less keeping himself in line on the way home, saying nothing and not vomiting until they arrived at the destination.
Zoe paid the cab fare and helped Jay out of the car, asking, "Can you go upstairs yourself?"
Jay's figure wobbled, before he said slowly, "I don't know."
That was definitely a no—Zoe knew that much.
Jay had always been cunning, always troubling others even though he looked like the type who wouldn’t.
Zoe clenched her teeth and helped him into his apartment complex, and up to his unit.
Naturally, the man was staying in an affluent district. Zoe opened the door to see a spacious apartment, with glass walls covering three of the four walls.
It was an expensive property Zoe hadn’t seen for a while, a little impressed and unable to resist giving it a few more looks.
She used to scoff at grand apartments like these, but now, they were her dream house.
As she helped Jay into his exceedingly luxurious bedroom, he suddenly said, "I think I'm going to be sick."
Immediately, he vomited without control.
Zoe could tell that he was doing his best not to vomit on her, but it just came too quickly and too violently that her clothes were hit.
Jay became very silent after that, like a child who had just realized he messed up royally.
But he was already thirtyish—this much wouldn’t kill his reputation!
Even so, Zoe was furious.
He could’ve told her earlier that he was going to vomit, so she could help him to the bathroom.
And now, her clothes were all ruined—how was she supposed to leave? No cab would take her!
Jay apologized, "It was an accident…"
Zoe rolled her eyes—she would’ve shouted at him if it wasn't.
"Are you still going to vomit?" she asked, restraining her rage.
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