Casper shouldn't have been so hung up on it. A mistake is a mistake, and his was beyond fixing. He had come to terms with that.

Casper pulled back the covers, tucked Eliza in, and was ready to leave. But she jumped onto his back like a nimble kitten, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Tell me, who are you really?" she demanded. "I'm...," he gritted his teeth, "a waiter."

Her response was a soft "oh," tinged with disappointment. But she didn't get off his back. Instead, she clung to him tightly, as if trying to soak up some warmth and comfort.

He turned his face slightly. "Go back to bed and get some rest. You need it."

"I, I..." she began, but then a wave of nausea hit her. Her stomach churned violently, and she couldn't hold it back. She opened her mouth, and a burst of vomit came out, splattering all over his shirt. Casper froze. Fighting his own nausea, he carried her to the bathroom, where she clung to the toilet and vomited. He took off his shirt and tossed it aside.

He knelt next to her and gently patted her back. "How much did you drink?"

"Two, two bottles," she said, holding up three fingers.

He couldn't help but laugh, despite his annoyance. "That's quite something."

She vomited again, feeling utterly weak. He called Dillon to get some hangover remedies and bring them over. He stayed until Eliza fell into a peaceful sleep.

Before he left, he scribbled a note on the medicine box. "Take with warm water. Don't drink so much next time."

Casper returned to his room and took a long shower. Early the next morning, he and Dillon headed back to Falconridge.

Eliza woke up with a splitting headache, her eyelids swollen and her throat on fire. She had blacked out and had no idea how she ended up in bed. She only remembered vomiting.

Turning her head, she saw a

medicine box on the nightstand. Out of curiosity, she reached for it, took a glance, and then threw it away in shock. It was Casper's handwriting, unmistakable and familiar.

Could he have bought this medicine? Could he have been here last night?

A wave of panic surged through her, and she threw off the covers, relieved to replace her clothes still on. She calmed down a bit, rubbed her heavy head, trying to shake off the dizziness, and struggled to get up

and head to the bathroom.

At the bathroom door, she spotted his shirt on the floor, stained with vomit. Another piece of evidence proving that Casper had indeed come over last night.

She closed her eyes. What a stroke of bad luck.

Back in Oak Falls, Aaron and Eliza met up, and he invited her for a weekend yacht trip to clear her mind. Feeling weighed down, she agreed. Nothing was more refreshing than the open sea and sky.

Aaron piloted a small yacht. Eliza,

holding Brock's hand, stood on the deck. The sea shimmered under the sunlight, the breeze blowing through her soft hair, making it dance like waves. Such a mesmerizing sight to behold.

Voni

Aaron watched from a distance, his gaze fixed on Eliza, then slowly shifting to Brock's innocent face. His eyes held an indecipherable emotion.

Perhaps it was time to get his plan in motion, starting with Brock.

Aaron walked up to them with a gentle smile. "Let me play with Brock for a bit. You take a break. There are drinks inside; have one and relax."

"Then have one when you feel like it." Aaron picked up Brock and reached for the seagulls, making Brock laugh gleefully. "Look, how high the birds are flying, Brock. Do you want to fly too?"

"It's okay. I'm not thirsty right now," Eliza said with a smile.

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