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CHAPTER 18

Trudeau’s POV

“Do you have a stick left?”

Instead of a reply, she went straight into a coughing fit. My drunk self didn’t know what to do. I hoped the coughing would end sometime soon so I wouldn’t be burdened with having to care for her while she was struggling to breathe.

After some seconds, the coughing died down and her eyes were teary.

“Sorry…” I muttered, not knowing what else to say. I drew out a clean handkerchief from my breast pocket, handing it to her. She looked sideways at me, almost like she couldn’t believe her eyes. There was a lot of reluctance in the way she reached out for it like she couldn’t believe I would ever be nice. Eventually, her hand got to it before I got tired of suspending my hand in the air. I wasn’t exactly at my strongest.

“Thank you…”

She cleaned her running face, wiping the tears away and folding it neatly back. She flipped it back and forth in her hands, I could tell she was confused about what to do with it.

I awkwardly spoke up. “Keep it.”

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