Chapter 389: Who Drugged Who

She pressed her lips together. “Psycho.” She didn’t want to dignify that nickname with a response, but Easton turned slightly, catching her meaning.

“You’re almost at your floor. We—”

“I need to talk to you, Ellis,” she cut him off.

Right then, the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Her apartment door was right ahead. She stepped out but turned her head to call back to him.

“Come out here.”

Easton couldn’t guess what she wanted, but he followed anyway. She wasn’t sure if Maya was home or not, and she had zero intention of letting Easton into the apartment. Standing outside the door, she asked,

“Don’t you think you’re being weird?”

He knew that, to her, he was absolutely the definition of weird. He didn’t deny it and simply waited for her to continue. Clearly, this was just her opening. Her eyes didn’t even flicker when he said nothing. She went on:

“You didn’t want to marry me. Then you regretted the divorce and started chasing me for a remarriage. What is this? A game to you? You’ve always believed I was the one who drugged you. I’ve said a hundred times it wasn’t me, and you’ve never listened.”

If she hadn’t brought it up again, Easton would’ve nearly forgotten. He’d long convinced himself that she was the one who drugged him—and had decided he didn’t care. When something no longer mattered, it didn’t deserve mental space. But now that she was standing in front of him, denying it with that same unwavering tone, he didn’t react the way he used to.

In a gentler voice, he asked,

“If it wasn’t you… then why did you just so happen to be there?”

He didn’t dare say the cruel things he used to—about how cheap and manipulative she was. He knew she hated those words. Say them, and she’d explode. But Ellis had no patience left. The look on Easton’s face, the way he still didn’t believe her—it made her want to hit him. She cut him off before he could finish.

“You’ve never trusted me. Not even once. And now you want to get back together? You must be bored out of your mind. Find something better to do with your time and stop pestering me.”

But that wasn’t the point.

“I’ll say it one more time. I didn’t drug you. I’ve carried this shit for years. Can you, for once, use your damn brain and actually look into it? Find out who really did it and clear my name. Can you do that?”

Clearing her name wasn’t even the most important part. What really burned was the humiliation. All the times he mocked her, shamed her, ground her into the dirt like she was worthless. It made her blood boil. The real person who drugged him? They were still free, unbothered, untouched. Someone should pay for this.

In the past, Easton would’ve brushed it off—thought she was putting on a show. But it had been more than six months since their divorce. Now, hearing her say it again, seeing how serious she was, he couldn’t detect a single lie in her expression. His convictions started to waver.

Could I have been wrong? Was she telling the truth this whole time? He’d already decided it didn’t matter. He’d made peace with it. But now she’d ripped the past wide open again, forcing him to look at it.

Easton stood in silent conflict for a moment. Then finally, he nodded.

“Okay. I’ll look into it.”

His voice carried a grudging tone, like she was asking him to do something burdensome. Ellis felt her stomach drop. Such a simple request. And even now, he acted like it was a chore. She glared at him.

“You sound like it’s the end of the world. I seriously don’t know what brain short-circuit made you decide to come crawling back. After all the disgusting things you’ve done to me, there is nothing you could say or do that would make me take you back.”

Most of what he’d done wasn’t just unhelpful—it had been downright harmful. If he’d shown even a sliver of kindness during the divorce, if he hadn’t dragged her through hell, she might not have hated the idea of him so much now. She might not be this scared of repeating the nightmare.

“I’m not crawling. I just…”

Easton wasn’t good at saying sweet things, never had been. He looked straight into her eyes and changed course.

“I’m used to having you around.”

She almost laughed. What the hell does that mean? Am I a pet you got used to seeing! A houseplant you forgot to water and suddenly miss when it dies? Well, I’m used to not having you around, she thought, resisting the urge to slap him.

With a blank expression, she said,

“Get therapy.”