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His body exuded such a terrifying cold as he stood up and glared ruthless at the gentry from a condescending position.
“Who the hell are you to mention her name?!” Tristan’s voice was cold and oppressive.
He stepped forward and kicked the gentry on the body without another word.
The gentry huddled up in pain and did not move, but cold sweat trickled down his forehead.
The surrounding people dared not come to the gentry’s defense.
They only got to mingle in this circle because they were all sensible enough to suck up to Tristan. “Beckett…” Keith hurriedly went over and stopped Tristan.
“Calm down!” He then looked at the others. “Guys, Tristan’s had too much to drink.
Leave this to me, You guys can leave first.” Naturally, everyone agreed and immediately bid them goodbye. They even carried the half-dead gentry with them along the way.
The private room was in a mess. Only Tristan and Keith were left.
Tristan tried to restrain the urge to kill someone. The veins on his forehead were bulging out and his whole body was tense and stiff.
Keith went over and patted him on the shoulder, then pressed him into his seat. He quickly got someone to come over to clean the mess and ordered a variety of expensive alcohol.
“I know you’re here to drink. Help yourself…” Keith poured Tristan a full glass and drank some himself. Tristan sat there and chugged down the glass of alcohol.
The liquid burned his throat, but it gradually relaxed his body.
He buried his head in his knees as his shoulders trembled slightly.
“She almost died because of me, and I didn’t even know…” > It turned out there were so many things he was clueless about.
He even treated her so badly in those three years of marriage, which must have been so despairing for Joyce. He even kept forcing her to forgive him.’
Joyce probably hates me to death, right?’ His heartfelt like it was being viciously clenched by an invisible force.
It was extremely painful. Tristan admitted that when he found out that she almost died in the pool because of him, his heart completely broke at that moment. He hated himself immensely.
‘Why didn’t I think carefully about who it was when I was informed to go to the swimming pool?’ ‘Why was I late then?’ ‘Why didn’t I remember Joyce’s face?’ ‘Why did I get the opportunity to marry her yet I didn’t cherish her?’ …… However, there was no chance for them to start all over again.
Joyce would no longer disregard anything for him. Keith was confused with Tristan’s words as he was unaware of the details. Although he did not understand it, he knew that Tristan was just hung up about Joyce.
He would never dare to offend that woman again. When he looked at Tristan’s disheveled and regretful appearance, he knew that Tristan was head over heels in love with that woman.
Tristan chugged down one glass after another. His gaze gradually turned red and dazed. Not long after, Tristan finished most of the alcohol on the table. He only chanted one word.
“Joyce… Joyce…” ) Keith sighed. “You like Joyce that much?” ‘What’s so good about her?’ Tristan was about to pass out, but when he heard Joyce’s name, he subconsciously answered.
“I like her… I love her… I want to love her with all I have… But… She doesn’t care!” Tristan’s voice was hoarse and staggered. He wanted to love her just like how Joyce used to love him.
Keith stood up. “You’ve had too much to drink. I’ll send you home?” ) “I wanna see Joyce…” Tristan muttered. “Okay.”
The Powell Mansion front gates. Keith Ludwig was in the car when he gave Joyce a call.
Joyce sounded like she was already sleeping because she picked up impatiently. “Who is this?” Keith pursed his lips and replied, “It’s me, Keith Ludwig.
Uh… Beckett had one too many drinks and he’s right outside your house. Can you come out for a sec so he can say what he wants to?” There were a few seconds of silence over the phone.
Joyce seemed to have woken up. Her voice was calm and deep. “You can take him and get the hell out of my house!” Keith was speechless for a moment. He struggled.
“But we’re already here… If you don’t come out, I’ll just leave him at the door. You’re responsible if he freezes to death!” After that, he hung up the phone and patted his chest.
Talking to Joyce now needed a lot of courage! Keith dragged Tristan out of the car and sat him down at the gates. It was an extremely unmissable spot right in the middle. He was a little torn.
“Beckett, I’m doing this for you, okay? You can’t take your revenge on me later!” After all, Tristan requested to come here on his own. Keith then quickly left in his car after settling Tristan down.
Joyce took a moment to digest Keith’s words. She immediately ran to the balcony to check it out and saw a car driving away.
She cursed up a storm. ‘Are these people sick in the head?!’ Her father and brothers were asleep, so Joyce wore her slippers and went downstairs quietly.
When she got outside, she saw Tristan sitting there, looking disheveled and depressed. Joyce quietly stood in front of him and looked at him with an indifferent gaze.
Her voice was clear and cold. “Tristan Beckett, are you addicted to acting now?” Tristan raised his eyes, which were completely bloodshot. He reeked of alcohol.
Joyce was a little taken aback seeing him like this. With red eyes, he said, “I’m sorry, Joyce…
If you give me another chance, l’Il definitely remember you…” ” ) Joyce’s heart shook slightly like it was shocked by an electric current, but it instantly turned cold.
Just as she was about to open her mouth, she saw that Tristan had slumped over and was unconscious. Joyce was not in a good mood after she returned from that dinner.
Mentioning the horrible past reminded her of those vivid scars that Tristan inflicted on her.
How could she easily forget about them? Joyce had tried countless times to forgive him, but she could only forgive herself for her unrequited love.
She just did not want to repeatedly bring up the past grudges and grievances or get calculative with him because it was pointless.
However, she admitted that whenever she was alone at night, suddenly recalling the scenes from the past still hurt her immensely.
Regret? She had long regretted all of this! Joyce would rather be wounded by a stray bullet back then on the streets of Europe than hope that a soldier named Tristan Beckett would come to her rescue.
That way, she would not have fallen in love with him. Joyce took a deep breath. Her eyes involuntarily turned red. The dim yellow streetlights overlapped their shadows, which looked extraordinarily piercing to her.
The man on the ground had never been so wretched before.
If this happened three years ago, if he got drunk because of her, Joyce would probably be laughing in her dreams.
What a pity… Joyce gently wiped away the tears that slipped out from the corners of her eyes.
She stepped forward and said in a clear and cold tone, “Tristan Beckett, let’s consider it even and pretend we don’t know each other…”
The man on the ground did not move one bit. Joyce hesitated for a few seconds and a decided to ignore him.
However, after taking two steps out, Joyce gritted her teeth, turned back around, and kicked him in the waist.
Then without looking back, she walked into the house and closed the door.
She leaned her back against the door and took out her phone to call Keith. That damned wimp turned off his phone! She then found Colton White’s phone number and called him. He answered quite quickly.
“It’s me, Joyce Powell. Tristan Beckett is drunk at my door. If you don’t want him to freeze to death, take him away. Else, I’ Il call the police…” » Joyce hung up without another word.
In less than twenty minutes, Joyce watched from upstairs as Colton’s car came and left again.
No pill for regrets