Chapter 4

Summer POV

Two days later, Boston, The Meridian Club.

Today was Zach's death anniversary.

Every year on this day, Ethan would book this place, gathering all his friends from our old social circle to commemorate his deceased brother.

And I, as the supposed culprit who caused Zach's death, was forced to come along every year by Ethan, like a live target for people to vent their resentment on, standing in the darkest corner of the private room.

Pushing open the heavy door of the private room, the noise inside quieted for a moment at my appearance, then erupted into even more unrestrained mockery.

"Well, if it isn't Summer? What happened to you, you look like a ghost?" A wealthy scion who once pursued me spoke with a snide tone.

"What Summer? Her family went bankrupt ages ago. Now she's just a dog at Ethan's heels." Another person chimed in.

"Killed Zach and still has the nerve to live in this world. She's got some thick skin."

Those who used to treat me courteously now attacked me with the most malicious words, all to curry favor with Ethan, who sat at the head of the table.

I wore a faded old coat, my face ashen, ignoring their taunts. My gaze cut through the crowd, landing on Ethan.

Ethan lounged on the sofa, twirling a silver lighter in his hand. Audrey nestled beside him, their bodies close.

Seeing me enter, Ethan didn't even look up. The lighter made a crisp click. A flame flickered, then he pressed it out without a change in expression.

He didn't stop the taunts.

I knew he was waiting. Waiting for me to walk up to him with red-rimmed eyes, as I did three years ago, clutching his sleeve, pleading tearfully for him to take me away.

But I had no strength left.

I just stood there quietly, my eyes as vacant as if watching a drama unrelated to myself.

"Summer, Zach is so cold underground. It's only right that you drink this toast to apologize to him, isn't it?" The wealthy scion grew bolder when Ethan didn't stop him. He poured a full glass of strong whiskey and slammed it onto the edge of the table.

A chorus of jeers immediately filled the room.

I looked at the amber liquid, my stomach revolted.

In my current physical state, even walking a few steps could trigger heart failure, let alone drinking such potent whiskey. Drinking it would be no different than accelerating my death.

However, if I didn't drink, this humiliation wouldn't end.

I was too tired; I was almost out of strength just to stand.

Under the gaze of everyone watching for a show, I slowly walked forward. I didn't look at Ethan, nor at the drink. I just calmly asked the wealthy scion, "If I drink this, I can leave, right?"

At these words, I saw Ethan's hand, which had been toying with the lighter, suddenly freeze, his brows tightly furrowing.

"Of course! As long as you finish it, we'll let you off today!"

I didn't hesitate. I reached out a pale, slender hand, picked up the full glass of whiskey, tilted my head back, and drained it in one gulp.

The fiery liquid flowed down my throat into my stomach, instantly burning like a raging inferno within my organs.

Immediately after, a fierce, tearing spasm gripped my heart.

I clutched my chest, my frail body swaying uncontrollably. Large beads of cold sweat rolled down my forehead, and my already pale face was now utterly bloodless, showing a deathly pallor.

"One glass isn't enough? How much Zach suffered in that fire, what's a little drink compared to that!" Seeing my state, the man didn't stop. Instead, he picked up the bottle, preparing to pour more into the glass.

Bang!

A loud crash exploded in the private room.

Ethan violently grabbed the glass ashtray from the table and slammed it hard at the wealthy scion's feet. Glass shards flew everywhere, and the room instantly fell into a deathly silence. Everyone was startled into silence by his sudden rage.

Ethan's face was terrifyingly dark, his eyes swirling with chilling malice.

He strode over, grabbed my icy wrist, his grip so powerful it almost crushed my bones.

"Who told you to drink?!" Ethan gritted his teeth, his voice a hoarse roar forced from his chest. "Do you think drinking a glass of wine can atone for your sins? What right do you have?"

He cursed me harshly, but the hand clutching me trembled slightly. The moment I felt my legs weaken from the pain, almost falling, he instinctively reached out an arm, holding my back firmly.

I leaned against his rigid arm, breathing with difficulty. I looked up at Ethan's face, slightly distorted by anger, and actually managed a faint smile.

"Ethan... I drank the whiskey... can I go now?"

My lifeless compliance seemed to fill Ethan with dread.

"Get out! Get the hell out!" Ethan suddenly released my hand, as if to hide his loss of composure.

I leaned on the wall, walking out of the private room with slow, staggering steps.

I heard Audrey walk up, trying to link arms with him, but Ethan impatiently avoided her touch. He turned around, looked at the bewildered faces in the room, and spoke coldly, his voice loud enough for me to hear even in the hallway.

"The eighteenth of next month, Audrey and I are getting engaged. I hope everyone will come and witness it."

In the hallway, my frail figure paused for only a fraction of a second.

Then, I said in an extremely soft, calm voice, "I wish you both eternal happiness."

No crying, no breakdown. Only the calm of still water.