Substitute Her to Love You (Charlotte and Patrick)

Chapter 7

Hearing my words, Patrick looked disgustful. However, stopped cupping my neck, he held my chin as he observed me with his black eyes as if he wanted to see through me.

It was so terribly quiet that there was only the smell of alcohol in the air.

After a long while, he sneered, "What do you want?"

At this time, I naively thought that he had been convinced by me. Then I said, "I pressed my fingerprint on the wedding agreement. As long as you don't sign a new agreement with her, I will be yours."

Patrick pushed me away and sat back in the driver's seat without saying anything.

However, after he drove all the way home, he threw me into a bathtub which was filled with icy water, pulled my hair, and said to me, "Do you think I will believe what you said? A woman like you is at most a b*tch around me.

At that moment, I came to my senses, thinking that Patrick, who loathed me so much, surely wouldn't be convinced by me.

I struggled in the water. But he didn't care. Only when I was on the verge of drowning did he get me out of the bathtub. Then we went from the bathtub, to the window sill, to the couch, and finally to the bed, trying countless postures...

I was originally covered with injuries. Patrick's making love to me made my lower body swollen and painful. Every friction of his made me cry in pain. I cried and asked him to stop. But he didn't seem to hear anything.

In the end, I was in a coma.

By the time I woke up again, there was a white wall in front of me and a bottle of intravenous drip hanging on the side.

At this time, I had been sobered up from the alcohol.

Thinking about what I had said and done yesterday, I felt so ashamed that I would like to hide somewhere.

I stayed in the hospital for three days.

Over these three days, besides taking care of the injuries on my body, the nurses also had to apply medicine to my private part. Although no one asked me why I was hospitalized, judging from the way the nurses looked at me every time, I knew that they probably knew it.

By the time I was discharged from the hospital three days later, Patrick hadn't ever shown up.

The first thing I did after being discharged from the hospital was to call Lisa.

Fortunately, she picked my call up this time. After learning about my situation, she took a taxi to the hospital in a hurry. After I finished packing up, she took me to her 40 square meter apartment.

Entering the door, I habitually found a place on the sofa where clothes were stacked and sat down.

Lisa moved a small stool and sat next to me. Then she lit a cigarette and took two sips of it forcibly before asking, "Tell me. What happened?"

Although she was asking me, she had a look on her face indicating that she had seen through everything.

I, who happened to have nobody to confess to, told her everything that had happened in the past few days.

Lisa smoked while listening to my narration. After I finished speaking, she pinched the cigarette butt into the ashtray and clapped her hands, "You're not innocent anymore." "What?" Originally, I thought Lisa would scold me.

But she praised me, catching me off guard for a moment.

Lisa sat up straight and said in an experienced tone, "You shouldn't rush to play up to Patrick. Instead, you should keep him hanging. Men are all like that. Sooner or later, he will take you to his heart."

She was clearly implying that I should continue entangling with Patrick.

However, regarding what happened that night three days ago, even though I was drunk, I couldn't forget that painful feeling. I said, "Forget it. He's a beast!"

"Nonsense." Lisa leaned over, sat on the pile of clothes, and hooked my neck, "You have been talking about him every day ever since many years ago, right? You used to cut down the report on the newspaper about him and stick it on the wall. Now that he is within your reach. How can you give him up?"

Hearing her words, I couldn't help but be stunned. All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

"That's right. In the past, what I had been having on my mind was that I could meet Patrick again and marry him, right?"

A piece of melodious ringtone rang.

It was my phone.

I had been using this ringtone for a long time. I remembered that I had almost burst out crying when I heard it for the first time.

Patrick was probably that so-called beam of light for me. Although I knew that he wasn't within my reach, I tried my best to become more excellent and stronger, hoping that I could stand at the same level as him one day.

I could shake hands with him and introduce myself to him confidently.

When I took out my phone from my bag and saw the familiar number on it, I was so scared that I almost threw it away.