Chapter 5

Quentin … Quentin …

Willow stood up. Her glasses were long gone, revealing the bright, seductive eyes that were always concealed behind them.

She took off her frumpy jacket and untucked her blouse. Then, she let down her hair, allowing it to cascade over her shoulders. After that, she retrieved a lipstick from her bag and removed her heels.

In the restroom, Willow turned on the tap and let it run as she returned to her senses. She looked at herself in the mirror.

Her reflection showed a woman with a gorgeous face and delicate features. Her face was bare, and her red lips were the only spot of color. Yet, her beauty was enough to take one's breath away.

Back in college, she'd been the prettiest woman on campus. Countless men had had crushes on her and wanted to win her heart.

She'd only put on those glasses, tied her hair up, and dressed frumpily because of what Quentin had told her after they'd married. He'd told her that she belonged to him and that he didn't want so many people to look at her.

Yet … what had Quentin done to her?

Willow's eyes turned red. She gnashed her teeth so hard she could taste the blood in her mouth.

How could he do this to her? And if he was cheating on her so blatantly, why would she need to stay loyal to him?

What gave him the audacity to treat her like this?

Willow balled her hands into fists, and her eyes took on a determined gaze. She turned to walk out of the restroom.

The corridor was dark, and the strobe lights made the atmosphere rather amorous.

Willow wasn't completely sober yet, so she leaned against the wall for support as she stumbled away.

Her sorrow and pain seemed to be magnified and on display at this very moment.

Theodore frowned. He didn't know why, but he'd followed her after seeing her wander around aimlessly, looking heartbroken.

The way she looked right now left a ripple in his heart.

At this moment, Willow stumbled right into his arms.

He frowned and said coldly, "Willow."

She squinted upon hearing someone with a cold, emotionless voice calling her.

She looked up to see Theodore standing before her. The first thing she saw was the sharp lines of his face, followed by his tightly pursed lips. He looked down at her domineeringly.

Willow's blurry vision started clearing up. She recognized him. "T-Theodore?"

She struggled to straighten up, then frowned at him. "What are you—"

Theodore's frown deepened. His gaze was cold. "Don't tell me you're drowning your sorrows with alcohol, Ms. Jett."

And she was doing it for a man who didn't deserve to be loved.

Willow couldn't really hear what he said. All she knew was that her heart hurt like hell. All she could think about was the pain of Quentin's betrayal.

He'd slept with another woman, and he'd betrayed her.

"Willow?" Theodore reached out to hold Willow up when he felt her leaning against him again.

As soon as he lowered his head, he felt something soft press against his lips—it was a pair of lips with a faint scent of alcohol on them. At the same time, Willow pressed herself against him.

The look in Theodore's eyes changed. He wanted to push her away, but she refused to let him go.