Bought For A Baby, Kept For A Lifetime-Chapter 59: Nothing Like Her

Feeling a shadow suddenly standing over her, she lowered her hands slowly and the masked person was standing right in front of her, both his hands extended to her.

Anne slowly looked up at his face with her tear-streaked face.

On his left hand was a white handkerchief, and on his right was a glass of whiskey.

"One dries your tears, and the other numbs your feelings. Take one or both if you wish," he said unfeelingly.

Anne looked at both his hands hesitantly.

He was offering her a handkerchief and alcohol?

Was this his way of helping her stop crying?

Anne slowly reached her hand out, not wanting to be rude to his efforts she took both.

"Th-thank you."

She wasn’t a good drinker, so she wiped her face, sniffing slightly, then carefully dropped the glass of whiskey on the table in front of her. Before she knew it, the man’s shadow had left.

She immediately realized she hadn’t answered his question yet.

Should she really tell him what was wrong with Kristen? Wouldn’t he think that she was fishing for his sympathy?

The man didn’t press her for a reply, but he had told her to answer him instantly, he had even been patient with her and offered her something to wipe her tears and numb her feelings.

"He’s in the hospital, in a coma to be exact. He was in an accident, it was bad enough he never woke up again after that. But, immediately after his surgery he’ll be..."

Her words instantly stopped as Doctor Steve’s words replayed in her mind.

He only has a slim chance of survival...

Her throat began to choke up.

The tears threatening to begin spilling again.

Her emotions were acting up lately like someone who was suffering from a severe case of PMS, one that specifically targeted her emotions.

Without thinking much about it, she grabbed the glass she’d kept on the table and threw the entire content down her throat.

It burned harshly that she grimaced.

What the hell did people like in alcohol? It was so harsh that it left a smoky aftertaste in her throat.

It was only when she raised her head that she realized that the man was currently looking at her. Her face instantly reddened in embarrassment. Did he see how she scrunched up her face in distaste just now?

He’d nicely given her the drink yet she’d made that reaction.

He suddenly began to walk to another side of the room and Anne searched for what to say to him.

He pulled something on the walls and a compartment suddenly revealed itself, it was a glass shelf where rows and rows of bottles were kept.

He grabbed two bottles off the shelf and pressed something to make the compartment disappear into the walls again.

"That might be quite harsh on your palate," he said, suddenly taking a seat opposite her on the single sofa, then opened the glass cork on the bottle and poured a little bit into her glass.

"Lowland scotch, has a light fruity flavor. You might like it better."

Anne hadn’t heard the man talking so easily before, but he sounded as if he actually wanted to have a sort of small talk with her.

He raised his gaze after filling the glass halfway.

"Try it," he said.

She slowly lifted the glass while he appraised her with intent dark eyes beyond the mask.

She took a sip and waited a second till a fruity flavor burst on her tongue. The taste was somewhat smooth yet layered with first a burst of fruitiness then a sweetness that felt like honey.

"This is good," she said, her eyes lighting up.

Even the aftertaste felt refined in a way that made one want to have another sip. Which, after sneaking a glance at the man to see his eyes that seemed to soften, she raised the glass again and sipped.

It really was enjoyable the more she drank from the glass, hence she didn’t realize when she finished the second glass.

The man had leaned back in his seat now, with his arms crossed, watching her intently. He only moved when he noticed she was done with the second glass.

He picked up the other bottle he’d retrieved from the wall compartment and uncorked it, then poured another half into her glass.

"Caramel flavoured bourbon. Try it," he said, then pulled back once again.

Looking at the man, he didn’t seem so scary and unapproachable anymore. What Anne was reminded of right now was a kid showing off his toys to someone else. She seemed to have seen him drinking whiskey quite a few times while she was here, and he seemed to be really into different kinds of flavors judging from how well he seemed to know each one.

Indulging whatever he was doing, she picked up her third glass and tasted it.

Her eyes lit up even wider than when she’d had the second glass.

The man tilted his head questioningly and she replied,

"It tastes like caramel candies."

She didn’t notice this, but the man’s lips raised imperceptibly beneath the mask.

Candies? Had anyone ever described bourbon with candies before?

Anne, however, was fascinated with what she’d just drank.

She took another sip, savoring the rich, deep flavor of sweetness on her tongue. It felt as smooth as velvet, no wonder people like drinking alcohol.

This wasn’t bad at all.

She suddenly seemed to feel light, her mind seeming to drop every complicated thought, they evaporated instantly.

This bourbon thing tasted better and better the more she drank it.

She suddenly felt like she could have this every day.

Anne’s eyes suddenly seemed to blur for a single second but she shook her head and her vision cleared up again.

All traces of her sour mood seemed to have faded away, in fact, she felt very light. Light enough for a smile to suddenly split on her lips as she raised the glass to eye level, looking at the color of the drink swirl within the glass as she heard herself ask absentmindedly,

"How much does this cost?"

The man shrugged casually, "That’s a twenty-five-year-old caramel bourbon, costs at least $9,500 a bottle."

Hearing that, Anne suddenly hiccupped out of the blue.

Did she hear him right?

That amount just for a single bottle?

She gazed down at the bottle, which wasn’t large at all, it was a short bottle with a classy-looking design.

"I pity rich people. Such a tiny bottle and that huge amount? At this rate, you’ll go bankrupt drinking this every day."

Anne felt her eyes drooping, the words she just uttered were thoughts meant to be kept in her head, she didn’t even realize she’d spoken them out loud.

Sighing loudly and shaking her head as if she truly felt sorry for him for spending that much on a tiny bottle of drink, she grabbed one of the couch pillows and suddenly seemed so fatigued she couldn’t keep sitting, slowly, trying not to make it too obvious she laid on her side, closing her eyes drowsily.

Andrew quietly watched her every action calmly, a hidden smile in his eyes.

What had she said? He would go bankrupt buying drinks like these? She felt pity for him?

He sneered internally.

If he bought a hundred bottles of this every day for ten years, it wouldn’t even show a dent in his bank account and she was talking about him running bankrupt.

Her long lashes were currently drooping, casting a shadow on her cheeks. Her skin as white as milk, he felt the urge to take a bite out of her supple neck.

She was curled on the couch like a cat, lying down as if he wouldn’t notice her.

This human cat before him was somewhat endearing. He could admit that without feeling a chaotic suffocation in his mind.

He’d confirmed it now, she was nothing like that woman he despised.

Annelise was nothing like her.

It suddenly felt like a lake of cool calming water had flowed into his chest.

He stared at the young woman now, knowing her heart wasn’t as black as he’d thought, knowing her mind wasn’t as twisted. Knowing she was just herself without any hidden motives.

"The doctor said..." Her voice suddenly rang out loud and clear in the silent room. "... Kristen might not wake up even after I’ve paid for the surgery."

Her voice choked up and it sounded as if she wanted to tear up again.

"I sold my own body to make sure he’ll wake up again. I sold a child I haven’t had yet..." The tears slid down the side of her face.

He watched her nonchalantly.

So much for feeding her enough glasses to numb her tears. It seemed she really was too emotional for her own good.

Wasn’t that the very reason she was here? The desire to save a relative’s life.

What was it like to feel such strong emotions towards someone till the point one became self-sacrificial, he wondered.

Perhaps he would never know, because emotions were never in his agenda. But now that he knew she wasn’t the kind of woman he thought she was... he could finally breathe.

It wasn’t him being defeated, he’d just judged an innocent little woman wrongly. No, an innocent kitten of a woman. He concluded, watching her curled-up figure silently, not realizing that for the first time in his life, he’d actually silently admitted that he was wrong.

"Will he really... never wake up again?" She sobbed softly; he could barely hear the words, "I’ll give my heart and soul to have him wake up again. I’d give my all, to see him smile again."

A strange knot suddenly twisted within his chest. The raw pain in her voice, the furrow of her delicate brows and the visible ache on her face—it all made him feel a painful suffocation inside.

It was only after a long time did he sigh and get up, walking to the couch before he bent to effortlessly pick her up in his arms.