The table was filled with amber-colored whiskey.
Evelyn lifted her gaze and looked at Matteo, waiting for his definite response. But the dim lighting obscured his expression.
In the overwhelming silence, Evelyn felt like she was suffocating. She panted heavily, her mind flooded with memories.
Back when she first moved into the Gallagher estate, Matteo, unable to see, drowned himself in alcohol every day.
She worried about his health and tried to stop him, but he never listened.
One time, after getting drunk, he let out a cold laugh and pushed several bottles of alcohol toward her.
“Now, even a maid’s daughter dares to tell me what to do? Have I really fallen this low? Fine. If you drink all of these, I’ll listen to you.”
Evelyn wanted to tell him that wasn’t her intention. She wasn’t trying to control him. She was worried about him.
So, even though she was allergic to alcohol, she didn’t hesitate for a second. She grabbed a bottle and drank it down.
Within minutes, she had to be rushed to the hospital.
When she woke up, she saw him sitting by her bedside, his face dark with anger.
“I’m the one who was drunk, not you! You knew you were allergic to alcohol. Why would you risk your life like that?”
Evelyn had only one response. “Because I was worried about you, Mr. Gallagher. Your eyesight will return eventually. And even if it doesn’t, I’ll stay with you for the rest of my life. So please… don’t give up on yourself, okay?”
From that day forward, Matteo quit drinking.
For years, there wasn’t a single bottle of alcohol in the house.
As these memories surfaced, Evelyn laughed, but there was a glimmer of tears in her eyes.
She didn’t explain anything. Instead, she reached for the bottle of soda sitting nearby and dumped it into her drink.
Her voice was firm. “This alone isn’t enough to show my sincerity. I’ll punish myself further. Will that be enough?”
Without waiting for a response, she picked up the glass and tilted her head back, downing one after another.
The fiery, bitter burn slid down her throat, spreading through her stomach, sinking into a place even deeper—her heart.
By the seventh glass, Matteo finally couldn’t take it anymore. “That’s enough!”
Evelyn looked at the dozen untouched glasses still on the table and smiled. “That’s it? So, does this count as my apology? Have I done enough to make your beloved sweetheart happy?”
At those words, Matteo shot up from his seat, gripping her wrist.
His usually unreadable expression had darkened to something stormy, almost dangerous.
“You know that’s not what I meant, Eve! I told you, Rebecca and I are over! The Gallagher family won’t accept you; if you pull stunts like this, people will use them against you. I just don’t want to see you getting hurt or criticized!”
Matteo’s words sounded firm, logical even.
But Evelyn just laughed.
The Gallagher family wouldn’t accept her, the daughter of a maid, but did he really think they would welcome someone like Rebecca? A woman who repaid kindness with betrayal?
And yet, no matter how impossible the odds, as long as Rebecca said the word, Matteo still married her, didn’t he?”
Excuses.
Every rejection, every refusal, and every argument were all just excuses. The truth was simple. He just didn’t love her enough.
Evelyn didn’t want to waste any more breath. She yanked her wrist free and turned to leave.
But just as she reached the door, her vision blurred, and she collapsed.
