Chapter 328

Ethan Roscente set down his glass with an impassive expression.

Felix Valdemar saw right through his facade.

"Are you really fine?" Felix probed. "This isn't about Dr. Laurent, is it?"

Ethan downed another shot in silence.

"If you can't let her go, then go win her back," Felix advised. "Dr. Laurent is in high demand now. If you wait any longer, it'll be too late."

"I don't regret it," Ethan murmured.

The divorce had been a calculated decision. He'd rather see Vivian flourish in her medical career than remain trapped as Mrs. Roscente.

Felix shook his head inwardly. Ethan might as well have the word "regret" carved on his forehead.

If it were him, he would've been consumed by remorse long ago. A wife like that—brilliant, graceful, and accomplished—who in their right mind would let her go?

"Then why are you drowning yourself in alcohol?"

"I'm celebrating," Ethan said, refilling his glass.

"If you're celebrating, then stop drinking." Felix grabbed the bottle. "I'm not carrying a drunkard home tonight."

The words struck a chord in Ethan.

A glint flashed in his eyes as he threw back the drink in one swift motion.

"Have you lost your mind?" Felix exclaimed. "Your stomach is weak. Have you forgotten who treated you all those years ago?"

The memory brought Felix to a sudden realization.

Back then, doctors had declared Ethan would never walk again—only Vivian had insisted he would recover. It hadn't been empty reassurance, but a professional diagnosis.

"You're not trying to drink yourself into the hospital just to get an appointment with Dr. Laurent, are you?"

Ethan didn't answer. He was gambling—betting that Vivian would come for an old friend who'd had too much to drink.

The liquor burned his stomach, but it couldn't extinguish the stubborn ache in his chest.

He had never missed someone this much.

Every person around Vivian filled him with unbearable jealousy. Why did they get to laugh and talk with her while he couldn't even approach her?

The way she looked at him—always guarded, as if he were some kind of monster—only deepened his frustration.

He poured another shot.

Empty bottles piled up on the table.

When Ethan finally slumped over, Felix sighed in relief. "Should I take you home?"

Suddenly, Ethan grabbed his wrist and shoved a phone into his hand.

"Call Vivian."