Chapter 435: Overly Enthusiastic

Brandon Jacobs planned to crash on the sofa outside his office for the night. Just as he lay down, his phone rang unexpectedly. It was his mother.

"Why aren’t you and Faye back yet? It’s so late! Where did you run off to? You’re a married man now, all grown up, but you’re still so unreliable. Get back here right now!"

Brandon Jacobs froze. ’Faye isn’t home?’

’She was definitely there when I left. How could she have gone out?’

’She has no relatives or friends in Veridia. Where could she have gone all by herself this late at night?’

’Could she be mad because I wasn’t considerate of her feelings when I took that call?’

Although Brandon Jacobs had no romantic feelings for Faye Fisher, they were legally married. She was his wife in name, so he couldn’t just ignore her well-being. Brandon immediately got up and called Faye Fisher.

It went through, but no one answered.

He called several more times, but there was still no answer.

His heart skipped a beat. He grabbed his car keys and left the club again.

He drove toward home, continuing to call her, but his calls remained unanswered.

Meanwhile, Faye Fisher had been with Wyatt Wynn in the car for a while, sparks flying between them. Although her senses had returned somewhat, she was still drunk and reeked of alcohol.

Wyatt Wynn helped her put her clothes back on. Looking at her flushed face, he said softly,

"You have to go home tonight, no matter what. Be good, and let me take you back, okay? Tomorrow, when Jacobs gets back, you can talk to him about a divorce. Whatever the consequences are, I’ll face them with you. If you don’t want to talk to him, I will. I’ll confess to him, how about that?"

It was impossible to tell if Faye Fisher had heard him. She leaned against the back seat with her eyes half-closed, not saying a word.

Wyatt Wynn took her silence as a yes and drove to the entrance of the Jacobs Family estate.

But the grand, towering gate, usually so familiar, now seemed impossible to enter.

Brandon Jacobs wasn’t there. If he went in with a drunk Faye Fisher, it wouldn’t look good, whether the housekeeper, the security guards, or Mrs. Jacobs saw them.

After all, Faye Fisher had always maintained a gentle and graceful image in front of them. What would they think if she came home in the middle of the night with her husband’s friend?

But she had to go back.

He was caught in a dilemma. Just as he was wondering whether to call Cecelia Archer to come and smooth things over, a pair of headlights shone from behind.

A glance in the rearview mirror revealed it was Brandon Jacobs.

Wyatt Wynn immediately pushed his door open and got out. He had just steadied himself when Brandon Jacobs pulled up beside him.

"Wynn, what are you doing here?"

As soon as he asked, he realized what was going on.

The woman his assistant had mentioned—the one drinking with Zeke Walton, who then saw her out—was Faye Fisher.

"Is Faye Fisher with you?"

Wyatt Wynn looked at the familiar face, his feelings a complicated mess.

’Although what he and Faye Fisher had just done was a betrayal of Brandon Jacobs, in a way, it wasn’t.’

’He never even treated Faye Fisher as his wife.’

’Coming back so late from some other woman’s place, how is he any better than Faye?’

"Jacobs, we need to talk."

Seeing his friend’s rare, serious expression, Brandon Jacobs shut off the engine, opened his door, and stepped out.

"This late? What do you want to talk about?"

Wyatt Wynn looked him in the eye, intending to tell the truth.

"Where have you been, coming back so late? Maybe it’s not my place to say this, but we’ve been friends for so many years... I want to say, if you don’t like Faye Fisher..."

Before he could finish, Brandon Jacobs had already guessed the reason for his expression. He walked around him and opened the rear door of the car.

Faye Fisher was asleep, her head tilted and leaning against the seat. The car was filled with the heavy stench of alcohol.

He leaned in, slid one arm under her back and the other under her knees, and lifted her out of the car.

Faye Fisher rested limply in his arms, and Brandon Jacobs held her with an air of possession.

"You don’t have to say it. I didn’t like her before, and I can’t say I particularly like her now, but I’ll try. Thanks for going through the trouble of bringing her back so late. We’ll head in now."

Then, he gestured toward his own car with his chin.

"Get the door for me."

Wyatt Wynn watched the woman who had just been his, now leaning against another man’s chest, and his heart ached as if pricked by needles.

He desperately wanted to say everything and leave with Faye Fisher, but things weren’t that simple.

Faye Fisher’s parents, the Jacobs’ parents—they were all involved.

He could ignore Brandon Jacobs’s feelings, but he had to consider theirs.

Especially Mr. Jacobs. If the shock killed him, he’d be a sinner for all time.

Wyatt Wynn didn’t rush to open the car door. Instead, he stared at Brandon Jacobs with a complicated expression.

"What do you mean, ’you’ll try’? She’s already married to you. You either treat her with all your heart or let her go and give her freedom. She’s not your experiment, nor is she a backup plan. You can’t have this attitude of ’I’ll keep her if it works out and toss her aside if it doesn’t.’ That’s not fair to her."

"I know,"

Brandon Jacobs stared back into his eyes.

"So, can you open the door now?"

Wyatt Wynn helped pull open the rear door. Faye Fisher was placed inside, and Brandon Jacobs patted his shoulder before quickly driving away.

Watching the car’s taillights recede into the distance, Wyatt Wynn returned to his own car. He slumped over the steering wheel for a long time before finding the strength to drive back.

That night, Wyatt Wynn was plagued by nightmares.

He dreamed that Faye Fisher was pregnant. She was holding onto Brandon Jacobs’s arm, looking right through him as if she didn’t know him, just parading in front of him.

In the blink of an eye, the baby was born. Brandon Jacobs’s parents were overjoyed, showing the child off to all the guests. But he knew it wasn’t Brandon’s, and the pain was unbearable. He was going crazy. He pulled Faye Fisher aside, wanting to take his child back.

But Brandon Jacobs overheard. He rushed out and started beating him violently. Zeke Walton even helped by handing him a knife.

"AH!" Just as the knife plunged down, Wyatt Wynn startled awake.

Another wave of regret washed over him.

He regretted not refusing Faye Fisher’s advances the night before. He regretted his own lack of clarity.

He knew deep down that it wasn’t just a dream. If things were allowed to continue this way, the scene from his nightmare would sooner or later become reality. He didn’t want that to happen. So, no matter what, he had to find Faye Fisher when she was sober and have a serious talk with her.

What exactly did she plan to do about the future?

But in the clear light of day, when she was sober, he had no way of contacting Faye Fisher.

Not only would it be improper, but he didn’t even have her phone number.

Her phone number.

Wyatt Wynn suddenly remembered—Zeke Walton had her number. Otherwise, there’s no way the two of them could have arranged to go drinking together.

Sometimes he really had to admire Zeke Walton. He was so simple-minded. With a clear conscience, he wasn’t afraid of rumors. He could go drinking alone with his friend’s wife without a shred of fear.

Wyatt Wynn called Zeke Walton. Luckily, Zeke was already awake. After a bit of small talk, Wyatt got to the point.

"Do you have Faye Fisher’s number? Send it to me."

Zeke Walton was puzzled. "What do you want her number for?"

"You asked me to take her home last night, remember? She left a bracelet in my car."

Zeke Walton’s face lit up with understanding. "Oh, I see. As it happens, my mom is also in the hospital, and I’m on my way to see her now. I heard Uncle Jacobs is at the same hospital, and Faye Fisher is there with him. Perfect timing! Just bring it over, and I’ll give it to her."

Wyatt Wynn: "..."

’How could there be such a coincidence in the world?’

’That damned Zeke Walton. He’s just too helpful. Sometimes you just don’t know what to do with him.’