Love You Like I Used To Forget It (Millie Bridge) novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Startled, I instinctively took several steps back.

I thought he was pretending to be drunk so that he could take advantage of me. But what I didn’t expect was for him to be even more dangerous than that!

“Honey… I’m back…” He staggered to his feet and lunged atine.

With his tall stature and muscular build, I might not survive if he managed to knock me over. Frightened, I ducked to the side.

He missed and met with the ground instead, his massive body shaking the floor with a loud thud.

“Honey…”

A pair of doe eyes looked up at me, utterly dejected. He probably couldn’t believe I would have avoided him.

His expression resembled that of a child whose happiness had been crushed–one who had joyfully run to embrace his most trusted person only to be pushed away.

As much as I didn’t want to, I felt somewhat sorry for him.

I began to understand why I used to be so infatuated with this man, reluctant to let go. His face was precisely my type–charming in a way that tugged at my heartstrings.

It was hard to resist such a handsome face. Besides, I’d heard that our marriage had once been blissful.

He had once lit up the night sky with fireworks just because I mentioned liking them. He queued for hours on end to buy me a collectible figurine I casually said I wanted. He even risked his life rushing into a roaring fire to save

mine.

That kind of seemingly genuine love was indeed hard to walk away from or forget.

But that was all in the past. Right now, I only wanted to cherish my life and stay far away from scumbags like him.

I also knew that pitying a man could ruin my life. Hence, no matter how pitiful he seemed, I refused to give in.

Glancing at the sorry man sprawled across the floor, I debated knocking him out with a stick. It was the only way to ensure he wouldn’t hurt me.

Protecting myself was a no–brainer. Within seconds, I decided to strike him.

However, just as I was about to land my blow, Irvin stopped moving. He seemed to have fallen asleep.

Cautiously, I crept up to him and nudged him with my foot. After confirming he was indeed asleep, I returned to my room. I locked the door behind me and climbed into bed.

I had a tough battle to fight tomorrow, so I needed to rest well.

In the middle of the night, I heard a loud crash from outside the door, like something had shattered. I decided to stay in instead of checking.

For safety reasons, I had previously replaced all the doors in the house with sturdy steel ones. These were m stronger in comparison. No matter how much Irvin banged or smashed at the door, he had no chance of breaking in.

I was safe, and whatever happened to him was his own problem.

1/4

Charter

+25 BORS

As Irvin started to awake from his drunken slumber, he heard familiar footsteps approaching. The corners of his lips curled up slightly as he reached out an arm without opening his eyes.

“Emilia… My head hurts…”

Whenever he drank too much back then, I would apparently always have chicken noodle soup ready for him. When he woke up, the soup would be delivered straight into his hands at just the right temperature. It would almost immediately cure his pounding headache and thirst.

At times when he struggled to hold the bowl steady, I would even feed him. He would often take the opportunity to pull me into his arms for a passionate morning session.

By now, it had been three months since he last had a sip of my chicken noodle soup. For the sake of that soup, he was willing to give me a way out.

The more he thought about it, the more he felt that he should give me an out.

However, his outstretched hand was never greeted with the warmth of a bowl of chicken noodle soup.

A frown took over his face.

He opened his eyes and was about to start grumbling, only to realize he wasn’t lying comfortably in bed. Instead, it appeared he had spent the whole night on the cold hard floor, surrounded by a mess!

There were even broken shards of glass scattered around him.

What shocked him even more was that some of the glass had pierced the skin on his hand. Staring at his injured hand, he couldn’t quite process what was happening.

How in the world did he end up on the floor?

Before drowning himself in booze the day before, he had explicitly told his friends to bring him to my place.

He was starting to suspect that they had misunderstood his instructions. That was until he turned and spotted me eating at the dining table.

He froze, unsure if he was still dreaming.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t convinced such a thing could happen even in a dream.

He was confident that his dear wife would never leave him lying on the floor! He could picture me fussing over him endlessly, staying up all night taking care of him.

Only the pain from his hands could snap him back to his senses. It proved that this wasn’t a dream. He had spent the night at my place, for sure.

And I had been enjoying my meal without a care in the world. All while he lay on the floor with the broken shards in his palms.

His blood boiled in his veins, and he couldn’t help feeling incredibly hurt.

At that moment, whatever tantrums I had thrown no longer mattered. How could I, his wife, have the gall to treat him like that? He was left on a floor covered in glass!

More wounded than angry, he jumped to his feet and snapped, “Emilia! You left me to sleep on the floor?”

He seemed unable to tolerate any grievances, having been spoiled all this time.

I glanced up at him indifferently. “I was kind enough to leave you on the floor. Next time you show up drunk at my door, I’m calling the cops.”

2/4

+25 BONUS

Chapter 7

“Don’t you push it, Emilia.” Irvin was ready to lash out, but suddenly, he remembered he had come to give me an

out.

Therefore, he swallowed his anger and pulled a chair next to me. “Why isn’t there a serving for me?”

Seeing the hot dogs on the table, he grimaced. “Haven’t I told you countless times not to eat such unhealthy food? Why are you still eating them? And why is everything spicy? You know I can’t have spicy food because of my stomach, right?”

He huffed. “I’m not having any of this. Go make tue some oats and a light dish!”

I was speechless at his demands. He must’ve gone mad. In what world did our current relationship justify him demanding food from me?

No spicy food? Did he think I gave a shit?

Somehow, it was as though he couldn’t read my expression or comprehend my words. Receiving no response, he snatched my plate as if he had every right.

I fought the urge to pick up the food on the table and dump it all on his head.

But I failed.