She Took The House The Car And My Heart

Chapter 169

Chapter 169 A Panic-

Stricken Alan

Kristian didn't need words to know what Gerard was thinking-his face said it all. With a slight curl of his lips,

Kristian offered a calm explanation, saying, "The phone accidentally slipped from Alan's hand after he'd had a

few drinks."

"That's it?" Gerard raised an eyebrow, his disbelief painting every feature of his face. The phone wasn't just

broken-it was demolished beyond all hope of repair. No ordinary fall could've done that kind of damage. This was

no accident. It reeked of a scuffle.

"And | stepped on it by mistake after it fell," Kristian lied smoothly, his expression as unreadable as ever. There

was a reason behind his fib. Alan was Freya's cousin, and if there was one thing certain about Freya, it was her

fierce loyalty. She was like a lioness when it cto protecting her own.

She wouldn't want the world to know her cousin turned into a one-man wrecking crew when he drank. So,

Kristian instinctively chose to shield the truth.

Gerard, however, wasn't buying a word of it. He began to roam around the room, inspecting the damage like a

detective on the verge of cracking the case.

Kristian's brows drew together as his usual frosty demeanor returned. "What are you doing?"

"Your tiles seem to be a bit... fragile," Gerard said, eyeing a scuff on the floor. "The phone falls once and leaves a

mark on the floor. Strange, isn't it?"

Kristian was silent, resisting the urge to sigh. Gerard was growing more annoying by the minute.

After checking the mark and confirming it wasn't going anywhere, Gerard stood, ready to confront his boss with

the truth.

But the moment his eyes met Kristian's cold stare, his courage vanished like smoke in the wind.

His tone shifted abruptly, and with a nervous smile, he backpedaled. "It's getting late. I'll bring you a new phone

tomorrow. Sleep well."

“Alright,” Kristian replied flatly, not bothering to mask his indifference.

Gerard wisely retreated without another word.

That night, Kristian slept more soundly than he had in days.

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Freya, on the other hand, wasn't particular about her sleeping arrangements. A change in surroundings didn't

throw her off.

She was up before Alan the next morning.

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21:25

After rising, she freshened up, ordered breakfast, and only then returned to the bedroom to tidy up.

By then, Alan had begun to stir.

He groaned, rubbing his aching head, sitting up groggily on the sofa. His hair

stuck out in every direction as he blinked at his surroundings.

Realizing he was in his own apartment, he relaxed and rubbed his head again, shrugging it off.

He assumed Toby had brought him back as usual.

Grabbing clean clothes from his room, he headed to the bathroom. Music started playing as he stepped into the

hot shower, hoping to wash away the fog in his brain.

Meanwhile, Freya noticed he was awake and sat waiting for breakfast to arrive. Her cousin's lifestyle mirrored

hers. After college, both had opted to live alone. She glanced at the slightly chaotic living room and couldn't help

but think of Kristian-his place was always neat, practically untouched.

Whether they were together or not, she had never seen his space in disarray. Last night had been the only

exception.

While she was lost in thought, Alan was having a full-blown crisis in the bathroom.

Mid-shower, he spotted a long hair clinging to the wall-a woman's hair.

His mind went blank.

The bathroom floor had been damp when he walked in, which now struck him like a bolt of lightning: someone

else had been there. And not just anyone-a woman.

The implications hit him like a ton of bricks. Toby usually carried him hafter a night of drinking. But this

time, he had woken up on the sofa.

Had a woman brought him home? The idea rattled him to his core.

What had happened last night? Why would Toby let a woman take him home? How would she even know where

he lived? Or worse-had he brought her himself, in a drunken haze?

The more he thought, the deeper he sank into panic.

He prided himself on keeping a clean reputation, and this situation was like a stain he couldn't scrub out.

Outside, Freya waited patiently, though nearly half an hour had passed. Still no sign of Alan. Frowning, she

approached the bathroom door. The water was still running, but there was no other sound. Worry crept in.

Had he fainted? Slipped and fallen?

"Alan?" she called, concern sharpening her tone.

The moment her voice filtered through the music, Alan nearly jumped out of his

skin. He screamed, startled by

the sudden female voice.

Freya blinked in confusion. What in the world was that about?

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Fearing he had blacked out again, she pressed gently, "Are you okay?"

Alan froze.

That voice-it sounded like Freya's. Could it be?

He called out hesitantly, "Mina?"

"Yes, I'm here," Freya answered clearly, choosing precision over assumption.

Alan exhaled with relief, the weight lifting from his chest.

Thank goodness. It was Freya!

For a moment, he'd feared he had brought a stranger hand sealed his fate in drunken disgrace.

With that crisis averted, he finished his shower with a spring in his step, the questions still lingering but no

longer urgent.

Five minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, fresh-faced and dressed in casual clothes.

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Breakfast had arrived. Freya divided the food neatly, setting a glass of milk before him. She began to eat quietly.

But something weighed on her. She watched Alan carefully, trying to find the right moment to speak.

Telling him what had happened at Kristian's wasn't going to be easy. Alan's pride had a long fuse-but once lit, the

explosion could be tic.

still, the truth had to cout.

Alan noticed her gaze mid-sip. His hand paused, cup halfway to his lips. “Why are you looking atlike that?"

he asked, tension creeping into his voice.

A dreadful thought crossed his mind-had he done something embarrassing in front of her?

Wait a second.

His expression shifted as clarity dawned. Something crucial clicked into place. Last night, he was quite drunk.

"You've figured it out," Freya said softly, relieved that he was putting two and two together.

Alan lowered his glass slowly, as if titself had slowed. "Was I... drunk last night?"

Freya nodded. "Yes."

"Really drunk?"

"Yes," she confirmed again.

Alan pressed both hands to his head, teetering on the edge of a breakdown. Why was the universe conspiring

against him?

"Did L... get too energetic? Like last time?" He couldn't bring himself to say drunk disaster. "Please tellno."

Freya hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Yes."

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Alan ran a hand through his already messy hair, the weight of humiliation settling on his shoulders.

Looking deeply apologetic, he said, "I'm sorry, Mina. | caused trouble again, didn't

i

He didn't even question the situation further. In his mind, the damage was done,

and Freya had been the only witness to his wild side.

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