My Child and I Married a Billionaire novel Chapter 231

Chapter 231: Chapter 231: Fair-Weather Friends Are Unreliable

As she spoke, the girl plugged the only power strip into the wall and connected it to her electric scooter. Turning back, she saw Zeke Walton hadn’t gone to wash his hands yet and spoke to him in a hushed voice.

"Couldn’t find the faucet, could you? I forgot to tell you, it’s over here."

She led Zeke Walton out of her room and to the other side of the corridor.

It was a room with the same layout as her own, and it looked like a kitchen. Pots and pans were crammed onto the stovetop, and there was a faucet in a corner against the wall.

"Keep your voice down. Everyone’s asleep, so don’t wake them. I’ll go get you a towel."

"That’s okay." Zeke Walton gritted his teeth against the pain and washed the blood from the gash.

Seeing how hard her living conditions were, he couldn’t bear the thought of getting her towel dirty.

"It’s getting late. Thanks for all your help tonight. Don’t you have work tomorrow? You should get some sleep."

Ten minutes ago, they had been suspicious of each other. Now, they were suddenly being courteous. Standing in the bright light, she looked at him again. He was even more handsome up close.

And his hands were so slender, long, and delicate—easily ten times more beautiful than her own.

The girl suddenly doubted he was a thief. ’What kind of thief is that handsome?’

"So you won’t let me give you a ride? You’re really going to go on your own?"

Zeke Walton was also looking at her in the bright light.

Though she was petite and her skin was tanned, her features were strikingly defined and very pretty.

She must have endured a lot of hardship growing up. Her face, full of youthful plumpness, made her look very young, but the hand that had just turned the faucet for him was tan and coarse.

"No, that’s okay. Who knows how long it’ll take for your scooter to charge. You should go get some rest."

Since he insisted, the girl didn’t press the issue.

She turned off the light, and they left the kitchen together.

"You remember the way out, right? You’ll be able to find your way?"

Zeke Walton got ready to leave.

But just before he left, he glanced at the curtain that served as her door, swaying in the draft, and couldn’t help but ask.

"This is your bedroom? This is where you sleep every night?"

His question made the girl’s face flush red again.

She avoided his gaze, glancing toward her "room." "I’m just staying here for now. I’ll move once I’ve saved up some money."

"This is barely a place to live. If I’m not mistaken, this space is just temporarily partitioned off from a public corridor. With people coming and going all the time, isn’t it unsafe for a young woman like you?"

"It’s not that unsafe. I work all day and don’t get back until very late, by which time pretty much everyone is asleep..."

’I wonder if everyone from the mountains is this naive and simple-minded. Does she really think it’s safe just because they’re asleep? Isn’t she afraid someone might wake up in the middle of the night?’

’This curtain... a single tug and it would come right off...’

Of course, Zeke Walton felt he was in no position to say any of this.

He’d just been caught doing something wrong himself, and it was already so late. He didn’t want to frighten her and make her unable to sleep.

’Fine.’ Zeke Walton left.

By the time he reached the bar, it was already three in the morning.

A few of his buddies, who had clearly had a lot to drink, were just stumbling out of the bar with their arms slung around each other’s shoulders.

Rows of luxury cars were parked outside. Some had chauffeurs waiting, some had girlfriends keeping them company, and others had designated drivers on standby. Everyone, happy and done for the night, was ready to go home.

Comparing them to his current self, Zeke Walton felt too ashamed to approach, but he had no other choice.

He finally picked one of the guys he was closer to and waited for him to separate from the group. Only when the guy was walking to his car alone did Zeke Walton show himself.

Filled with a seething rage, Zeke Walton set off on his own once more.

The three a.m. night was so dark, so cold. Walking down the street alone, he desperately wanted to break down and cry.

But he had brought this on himself. He couldn’t cry, and he couldn’t just go back and admit defeat like some coward.

He wandered like a lost soul until the sky began to lighten. When he spotted a pharmacy by the road, he made a decision. He would go to Central Hospital.

’If I’m going to be humiliated, I might as well be humiliated in front of him.’

He found the hospital room easily enough. Shane Grant had just woken up, and when he saw the state Zeke was in, his expression wasn’t much better than Howie’s had been.

"How did you get into this state? What happened? Your parents were looking for you all last night. Stop messing around. Be a good boy, take my phone, and call your father."

Zeke Walton couldn’t believe his father would go this far, even contacting Shane Grant. Now even Shane was telling him to go home!

He was exhausted and cold. And even though he’d been seething with frustration all night, he had worried about Shane Grant. Afraid of disturbing his rest, Zeke hadn’t dared to come earlier. And this was the thanks he got...

Meeting Shane Grant’s stern, slightly reproachful gaze, Zeke Walton finally snapped.

"You ask what happened? You ask why? Fuck! If I wasn’t fucking doing this for—"

He almost confessed his feelings right then and there.

But then he thought about the mess he was, about how uncertain his future was now that he’d left home. He felt he didn’t deserve Shane Grant, and so he swallowed the words.

"My business is my own, and I’ll handle it. It has nothing to do with you. You’re the one who’s sick, you should be worrying about yourself. How’s the company?"

Shane Grant looked at Zeke—tattered, disheveled, and utterly wretched—and assumed he was just acting out again, running around with those good-for-nothing friends of his. He was in no mood for it.

"If your business has nothing to do with me, then you don’t need to concern yourself with mine, either. You can leave."

Zeke Walton: "..."