His Beloved Ex-Wife

Chapter 7

Lysander was unsure if pure friendship could exist between men and women, but she could tell that Josiah had consumed a bit too much alcohol. The wine decanter had long vanished from his hand suggesting that the mineral water inside had depleted. And he was being urged by several people to drink more. Lysanne was trying hard to stop the drunken men, but her efforts were futile with her large belly. Meanwhile, Josiah was coerced into drinking several more cups, which caused his steps to become unsteady. Then, Lysander stood up and declared, “Sorry, I’ll check on Josiah first.” Miles refrained from making any odd comments and just simply nodded. “Alright, go ahead.” Lysander hurried over and was just in time to snatch the wine glass from Josiah’s hand as it was being refilled. “Hey, who’s this woman?” Ignoring the question, she grasped Josiah’s arm and inquired, “Josiah, are you alright?” He gazed at her for a moment before recognizing her and shook his head slightly. “I’m fine.” Their conversation was hushed, preventing the drunken group from overhearing. Assuming she was hotel staff, they moved to grab her while exclaiming, “Who do you think you are to approach Josiah like this? Are you out of your…” However, Josiah pulled his hand, shielded Lysander behind him, and sternly stated, “Don’t touch her.” “Josiah, why are you defending her? This woman seems to have ulterior motives. I’ve encountered many like her.” “She’s my wife.” The drunkard sobered up instantly, his face turning pale as he looked at Lysander being protected by Josiah. He then turned to Lysanne, whose face was pale, and asked with confusion, “If she’s your wife, then what about Lysanne?” All eyes shifted to Lysanne standing in the back who was still clutching onto Josiah’s suit jacket, She appeared displeased with a hint of redness around her eyes. “I’ve said it before. Josiah and I are just friends.” Despite her smile, it seemed strained and unnatural. The onlookers were not oblivious to the complexity of the situation. Lysanne’s expression hinted at something more was at play. “Josiah, you and Lysanne…” Regaining his composure, Josiah returned to his usual demeanor and softly replied, “It’s getting late. Let’s all head home. Lysander, let’s go.” Lysander nodded in agreement. “Okay.” She then turned to Lysanne and extended her hand. “Thank you, Miss Thorne. You can give me Josiah’s jacket.” Lysanne clung onto the suit jacket tightly refusing to let go. “I’ll be going back with you anyway, so I’ll hold onto it.” With many onlookers, Lysander hesitated for a moment before

relenting, “Alright, I have to help Josiah walk. Thank you, Miss Thorne.” Then, Josiah interjected, “Let’s go.” Walking ahead with Josiah, Lysanne followed behind with his coat as they exited, leaving the spectators inside bewildered. “What just happened?” “I have no clue…” Miles approached with a glass of wine, downed it in one go, shook his head, and sighed, “One should seize opportunities when they arise; don’t wait until it’s too late to take action.” “Hahaha! Miles, the poetic drunkard, what’s that supposed to mean? We don’t get it.” “It means—” He suddenly slammed the glass down, gazing at Lysanne’s solitary figure in the distance before sighing, “If only one had known earlier, one would have acted differently.” As soon as they stepped outside, the cold night wind immediately greeted them. Lysander shivered from the cold. Fortunately, Josiah’s body was warm, and his warmth gradually spread to her, dispelling the chill from half of her body. Unable to drive after drinking, he said, “I’ll call a driver.” But Lysanne quickly took out her phone to make the arrangements. “I’ll drive,” Lysander offered. Surprised, Josiah asked, “You can drive?” She smiled. “Yes, but I haven’t had many opportunities to do so.” For the past three years, Josiah had always picked her up and dropped her off for work. Even when she had to work late at night, he would dutifully act as her driver. It was the first time he didn’t insist on taking her to the hospital. Lysander then inquired, “Where are the car keys?” “In my pocket,” Josiah replied. Then, Lysander searched through his suit jacket pocket and asked, “But they’re not here?” Josiah was quite drunk, with half his weight leaning on her while resting his head on her shoulder. He frowned and said, “They’re in my pants pocket.” “Well, stand up. I can’t reach it like this.” “I can do it. Let me!” Lysanne exclaimed, bravely walking over and reaching out to dig into Josiah’s suit pants pocket. But Lysander stopped her. “Miss Thorne, it’s not very convenient for you to reach into his pants pocket, right?”