when she left he went crazy (Hope and Christopher) novel Chapter 120

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When she left, He went crazy 

Chapter 120: Christopher, Let Go! 

Chapter 120 Christopher, Let Go! 

I racked my brain, trying to explain the complicated relationships to Elissa in the simplest way possible. 

In the end, I failed. Resigned, I began tidying up while giving Elissa a comprehensive rundown of the situation. And eventually, she got it. 

“So, he’s the brother of Christopher’s future wife?” she summed up succinctly. 

Stunned, I couldn’t help but laugh. “Who else has a mind as sharp as yours?” 

The house was immaculate, likely because Cecil had arranged for the maid to clean it beforehand, so soon Elissa and I packed up our clothes. Collapsing onto the couch,she turned to me, her curiosity piqued. “Didn’t you say you had something important to discuss with me? What’s up?” 

I handed the information Cecil gave me to Elissa, explaining, “I want to start my own business. Interested in joining?” 

“Of course!” Elissa’s eyes lit up with excitement. 

I chuckled, “So, when you told me at the hospital that you had plans after quitting, were you bluffing?” 

“Well, your plan suits me better, Elissa said with a grin, looking through the information. After I delved into the origins of Elevatejoy, she grew more serious. “When do you plan to start?” 

I smiled. “Right now.” 

Some endeavors, once decided, couldn’t be postponed even for a day. 

Elissa, ever the impulsive one, clapped her hands in agreement. 

After lunch, we began hashing out various matters. Elissa took charge of selecting the office and deciding on the company location; while I managed the initial preparations. 

Preliminary calculations showed that selling the Riverside Garden house would provide more than enough funds for the initial investment. So the following day, I contacted a real estate agent to list the Riverside Garden house. Late that night, Christopher called, his tone unmistakably displeased. “You’re selling the house?” 

I answered, “Yes.” 

“Don’t.” Christopher’s voice was commanding and brooked no argument. 

I looked up from my work and stretched my neck. “What’s the reason? If I remember correctly, that house is in my name, and the divorce agreement clearly states it’s mine.” 

Christopher let out a cold laugh and questioned, “Where did you move to?” 

I paused and then replied calmly, “It’s none of your business.” 

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Chapter 120. Christopher, Let Gol 

“Is Cecil’s house more comfortable than the one I gave you? Christopher’s voice was indifferent, yet it sent a chill down my spine. 

I frowned deeply, accusing, “Are you still having someone follow me?” 

Once could be a coincidence. 

Twice, there’s no way to explain it away. 

On the other end of the line, Christopher seemed to sigh, his tone softening as he half–coaxed, half–pleaded. “Come out and open the door for me.” 

This was what I had once longed for the most. 

To be like an ordinary couple, with him coaxing me and speaking to me gently. 

That would have made me happy for a long time and soothed all my bad temper. 

But now, my heart was as calm as a dead sea. I looked through the peephole and saw Christopher’s flawless features. 

His head was slightly bowed, looking a bit tired, 

Probably because of the company’s matters and Brenda’s issues, he was quite busy. Busy playing the role of a domineering CEO and a dutiful son. 

I pressed my lips together, saying, “You should go back. Since you gave me that house, I should have the right to 

decide.” 

He asked, “Do you need money?” 

I replied, “Yes.” 

Christopher continued, “How much?” 

I said, “I don’t know, but selling the house will be enough for now.” 

Christopher’s voice was hoarse. “Don’t sell the house. I’ll give the money to you now.” 

1 suddenly opened the door, but all the words I wanted to vent got stuck in my throat when I saw Christopher’s bloodshot eyes. He seemed less spirited than usual. 

Knowing I didn’t like the acrid stench of smoke, Christopher extinguished his cigarette. Fixing me with an unwavering gaze, he inquired, “Mind if I come inside?” 

It wasn’t merely the lingering smoke; the pungent aroma of alcohol hung heavily in the air. I furrowed my brows. “Have you been drinking?” 

He whispered, “Yes. Had a few drinks with Ivan Garcia.” 

I nodded lightly. “Got it. You should go back and rest early!” 

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Chapter 120 Christopher, Let Gol 

As for Christopher and me, it was better if we didn’t have any more interactions. 

“I just want to be here with you.” His voice carried the stubbornness of a toddler insisting on a favorite toy, and he moved forward, intent on entering. 

Instinctively, I barred his way, stepping back in the process. Suddenly, he staggered, losing his balance. Startled, I hurriedly reached out to steady him. 

A few more drinks shouldn’t affect Christopher like this, given his usual tolerance. 

Moreover, if Christopher had time to drink with Ivan, it meant Valence Group’s issues had been mostly resolved, and he was probably really going to marry into the Harris family. 

Everything was going so smoothly; what could have driven Christopher to drink so much? 

Before I could ponder further, he leaned into me, burying his head in the crook of my neck, and murmured, “Honey, I feel terrible, really. 

My hands slowly balled into fists. I tried to push him away but hesitated, fearing he might topple over, and a dull headache started to pulse. “I’ll call Donald Quill to come get you.” 

“I don’t want to leave.” 

T 

Christopher’s hands suddenly wrapped around my waist, making my whole body tense up instantly. 

It was a familiar gesture from our passionate moments, but now it made my scalp tingle. Every rational part of me was screaming that this was wrong. 

I took a deep breath, cooing, “Christopher, let go!” 

Christopher seemed to drift off on me, his weight pressing down significantly more. Thankfully, he wasn’t entirely unconscious. As I maneuvered him into the house, he was able to muster some strength. 

After finally getting Christopher onto the couch, I let out a long sigh of relief. I gently patted his face, whispering. “Christopher?” 

No response. He was sleeping soundly, his face etched with an unexpected serenity. 

I picked up my phone and stepped onto the balcony, desperately hoping Donald would answer and whisk Christopher away. Several attempts later, still no response.