I Walked Away Seven Years Too Late But Right on Time novel Chapter 137

After Gwen finished venting, she downed an entire glass of beer in one go.

"Take it easy."

When Gwen reached to pour herself another, Sophie covered the rim of the glass with her hand.

"If you keep drinking like that, you're going to get a beer belly," Sophie teased gently.

Gwen was fiercely vain. She had starved herself countless times to maintain her incredible figure. Threatening her with a beer belly was far more effective than warning her about liver damage.

Sure enough, Gwen looked down at her flat stomach and huffed, "You're the one with a beer belly."

Then she burst out laughing, looking flushed and endearingly tipsy.

Her phone buzzed. Gwen tilted her head, squinting at the screen. It was Jason.

She held her hands up. She was wearing greasy plastic gloves from peeling the crawfish and clearly had no intention of taking them off to answer.

"It's ringing. Hurry up and answer it," Sophie urged anxiously.

Gwen ignored her, picking up another crawfish. She effortlessly snapped off the head, pulled out the meat, and popped it into her mouth.

She chewed slowly, completely unbothered by the relentless ringing, making Sophie incredibly anxious.

Finally, the ringing stopped. Gwen casually reached for another crawfish.

They had ordered over three pounds of crawfish and a six-pack of beer. The platter was practically empty, and Gwen had polished off almost all the alcohol herself.

Sophie finally understood what it meant to eat your feelings. If Gwen kept this up, her stomach was going to be an absolute wreck tomorrow.

"Gwen, you really need to stop eating. You're going to make yourself sick," Sophie pleaded.

"You're such a nag. Don't drink, don't eat. Do you micromanage Gavin like this too?"

Gwen rolled her eyes at Sophie, finally peeled off the plastic gloves, and meticulously wiped each finger with a wet wipe.

The phone started ringing again. Gwen tossed the wet wipe aside, letting it ring a few more times before finally hitting answer. She didn't even say "Hello," stubbornly waiting in silence for the person on the other end to speak first.

"I'm out with Sophie," Gwen answered flatly.

While she was hesitating, Gwen emerged from the hallway, strutting like a runway model. Her steps were perfectly steady, her dress swishing elegantly with her hips.

She worked fast. The hair she had tied back to eat was now down, her voluminous curls bouncing over her shoulders. She had even reapplied her makeup—a bold, unapologetic crimson red.

"As long as the queen is on her throne, the rest of you are just peasants." That shade screamed Gwen. She had the exact aura to pull it off.

This was the real Gwen. A little setback wasn't going to break her.

She was no longer the desperate, crying mess she had been three years ago during her divorce.

She had grown incredibly resilient and mature.

Gwen walked over, linking her arm through Sophie's. "I stole you away for the entire day. Your little Gavin must be plotting my murder by now."

"Not at all. He was busy playing with test tubes and beakers in the lab. He just finished up too," Sophie replied with a smile.

When they walked out of the restaurant, Gavin was already waiting in his car, casually eating a burger.