True Love Waits novel Chapter 1175

Sheffield was often punished by his wife to kneel on the keyboard, which was known to all of his friends.

He put his hand on Matthew's shoulder and told Harmon with a cheeky smile, "I'm doing this because I care about Matthew's happiness! He'll understand, I'm sure."

"Take your hand off me," said Matthew, deadpan, as he looked at the hand.

"Geeze. You're such a neat freak, just like your sister. You two have got germophobia, I tell you. You're sick in the head." With that, Sheffield shuffled a ways off, retrieved his glass, and took a sip.

As soon as his back was turned, Matthew took out his phone and sent his sister a text. "Sis, my brother-in-law said that you're a germaphobe, and that you're probably a neurotic."

When Evelyn saw the message, she replied, "It doesn't matter. I'll have a talk with him when he gets back home."

Meanwhile, Sheffield, who knew nothing about this, was still chatting happily with Harmon.

At eleven o'clock that evening, Erica was lying on her bed, playing with her phone.

Out of the blue, she got a call from Sheffield, who said, "Rika, Matthew is drunk. Can you come by and pick him up?"

'Drunk again?' thought Erica, frowning. She took no time at all to decide what to answer. "No, not a chance. I can't drive. Ask his assistant to come pick him up." The memory of what had happened the last time she'd gone to pick him up loomed large in Erica's mind. Trying again would surely lead to disaster.

Besides, she was still angry and didn't want to see Matthew.

Meanwhile, Sheffield wished the best for Erica and Matthew. He saw this as a good opportunity for the couple to improve their relationship. Since Erica didn't seem to realize this, he said, "Rika, why are you being silly? You know, if you don't come and see him, what if that gives other women the chance to do so? Just come over! When you pick up Matthew, I'll arrange for someone to drive you both back."

Erica's words were heavy and gloomy. "It doesn't matter whether I go see him or not. Other women will have the chance to get close to him either way."

That made Sheffield feel anxious. "How could that be possible? There are only the three of us here right now, all men. Now come here, quickly. I will keep an eye on him until you arrive. I promise no other woman will come near him."

Erica grumbled something and hung up. A moment of fretting came and went, and she slid from the bed. She went to the walk-in closet, changed into the first top she saw, and left the villa.

It was really a pain to have a husband who was incapable of holding his liquor.

After hanging up the phone, Sheffield looked over at Matthew, who had his eyes closed. "You're so pitiful," Sheffield said quietly, trying to sound sympathetic. "First your father doesn't love you, and now your wife doesn't either. You poor wretch."

Matthew and Harmon were rendered speechless.

By the time Erica finally reached the Orchid Private Club, Harmon had left to deal with something, leaving only Sheffield and Matthew in the private room.

Sheffield's face brightened the minute she walked in, and he waved at her. "Rika!"

Erica came over and nodded at him. "Hello, Sheffield."

Beside him, Matthew was still sprawled out on the sofa, his eyes closed. From his lack of reaction to Erica's arrival, she wasn't sure whether he'd known she was coming or not.

Sheffield came up to her and whispered, "You know, Matthew's drunk. Seize the opportunity tonight and take good care of him."

Erica hesitated, sure that he was trying to insinuate something. But she was still angry and didn't bother trying to figure it out. "Don't worry. I will take him to his woman," she said icily.

"His woman?" echoed Sheffield, who had no idea whom she was referring to.

Erica only nodded and brushed past him. Giving Matthew's shoe a kick, she snapped, "Get up!"

But remembering then that Sheffield was still watching them, she realized that she had to save face. With a great effort, she softened her voice. "Matthew Huo."

Slowly, Matthew opened his eyes and met Erica's. There was a trace of coldness in his look. "What do you want?"

His hand drifted to the nearby end table, toward a half-full glass beside a bottle of white wine. Despite nearly knocking the glass over, he managed to get it to his lips and took a long swig.

Erica took a deep breath. "I've come to pick you up. You've had enough to drink."

"No—I haven't finished yet," he grumbled. "I'm not going anywhere. If you want to talk about something, it'll have to wait until later."

His refusal kindled Erica's smoldering anger into an open flame. Before her husband could react, she snatched the glass from his hand and refilled it almost to the brim.