After I Stopped Loving Him novel Chapter 261

She swallowed her irritation before it could spill out. “Where’s Ethan’s driver?” she asked.

“He let the driver go home hours ago. Now he just keeps mumbling, ‘Have my wife come get me.’ Over and over.”

“Where are you guys drinking? Is it a bar or a hotel?” Isabella pressed. “If it’s a hotel, just get him a room. Let him sleep it off there.”

Dragging her out in the middle of the night… Did he ever stop to think about her safety? Sure, she’d taken some self-defense classes when she was younger, but that was ages ago, and she’d never actually had to use any of it. If something real happened, she honestly didn’t know if she could handle it.

Clearly, her safety was the last thing on his mind.

“It’s that same bar where Jesse had you pick him up last time,” Harold said.

Isabella sighed. “Can he talk on the phone right now?”

Harold held the phone up to Ethan’s ear. Isabella didn’t waste a second. “Ethan, why don’t you just drink yourself to death already? You’re always at it. One of these days, you’ll end up in the ER with a bleeding ulcer, and if they ask me to sign for surgery, I’ll just sign to let you go. See how you like that.”

“You’re in a bad mood so you drink? You have everything anyone could want, and you still find reasons to mope. You should go visit a cancer ward or a construction site. You’d see how many people are fighting just to stay alive.”

“Babe…” Ethan’s voice was rough and slurred.

“Come pick me up… please?”

All the things Isabella wanted to yell at him got stuck in her throat.

It was pointless anyway.

He never listened, so why bother?

She didn’t agree or refuse. She just hung up.

She sat there in silence for a while, phone in her hand, then finally dragged herself out of bed. Grumbling under her breath, she changed clothes, grabbed her car keys, and headed out.

Harold and everyone else still in the bar just stared, wide-eyed.

Was Mrs. Adams always this fierce?

“You awake now? Good. Let’s go home. All you ever do is drink. If you ever manage to drink yourself to death, I swear I’ll set off fireworks for three straight days.”

She was still fuming, not pulling any punches—either with her words or her grip.

As soon as she let go, Ethan shot up, stumbling back and clutching his ear. He glared at Isabella. His eyes were still a little lost, but he was definitely more awake.

He’d done this on purpose. He’d asked Harold to drink with him, gotten himself just drunk enough, and then demanded Isabella come pick him up.

It was his way of letting Harold know that Isabella was his, and no one else should even think about stepping in.