Carter's POV
And here I am, holding the head of my beloved wife as she vomits the contents of the drinks she consumed. I have her hair so that it doesn't get dirty with one hand, and I stroke her back with the other. Her cheeks are flushed with embarrassment, but she doesn't say anything; she's drunk, and she can't even stand up.
"Done already?" I ask, helping her to stand.
She looks at me as if she doesn't know me and smiles strangely in my direction.
"I shouldn't have given her so much to drink." I thought.
"You're very handsome; you look like him," she says, touching my chest and causing my body to tense up.
I smile because she's drunk. I never thought I would see her like this, not until now. The cocktails aren't helping, especially for a woman who drinks like a brokenhearted man
