Chapter 487:

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In the past, Darya might have found satisfaction in seeing him like this.

After all, he was drunk because of her.

But now, the irony was almost suffocating.

“Micah, we’re even now. Let’s be strangers from now on, okay?” she spoke, her voice laced with a mix of resignation and lingering emotions.

There was silence in response, and Micah remained motionless on the ground.

Darya gritted her teeth and nudged him with her foot. “Micah, do you really want to freeze to death?” Still no reply.

Darya chose to ignore him, turning away and heading into the warmth of her home, leaving Micah outside the gate.

The contrast between the cozy interior of her house and the chilling wind outside was stark, especially in the midst of late autumn. While Micah wouldn’t freeze to death, there was a real possibility of hypothermia if he stayed out all night like that.

Despite her cold-heartedness, Darya couldn’t bear doing that to him. She reached for her phone, intending to call Ryan, but the scoundrel, anticipating her move, had switched off his phone. Frustration welled up within her.

She wished she could drag Ryan out and give him a piece of her mind. But that wasn’t an option.

She called Norris, but the assistant didn’t answer either, likely already fast asleep at such a late hour.

Annoyed, Darya scratched her head, contemplating whether she should bring Micah inside.

But the mere thought of being under the same roof as him made her cringe.

Just as she pondered her options, Marshmallow, her fluffy companion, trotted up and asked what she was doing there.

Darya hugged Marshmallow, rubbing its head affectionately. “There’s a drunk jerk here, and I need someone to pick him up.”

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Marshmallow quipped, “If he’s a jerk, let’s just leave him here.”

Darya was taken aback by Marshmallow’s suggestion.

Indeed, Micah was exasperating, and she could easily leave him outside.

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“If we leave him out there, he’ll catch a cold. I don’t want to be responsible for that,” Darya explained to Marshmallow as she searched for Thomas’s phone number.

Luckily, Thomas was still awake when she called.

He answered promptly, his voice filled with concern. “Darya, what’s wrong?”

“Thomas, can you come over to Verona Heights Estates? Your cousin is drunk, and his best friend left him outside my house,” Darya said, her frustration evident in the space between her eyebrows.

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