"Oh, there's no need to apologize! I know you didn’t do it on purpose," Rea said with a bright smile and a flicker in her eyes as she expertly smoothed over the awkwardness.
Ian followed behind them. His gaze lingered on Clara’s back with an unreadable expression.
The atmosphere of the celebration was lively. Most of the guests were Ian’s friends. Since they knew Rea was his cherished girlfriend, they were eager to acknowledge her.
Although Clara stood quietly in the corner, oddly enough she did not feel out of place.
As the evening wore on, the guests raised their glasses for a celebratory toast.
Rea remained warm and welcoming. She even pulled Clara to the center with her. With a beaming face and laughter, she actively clinked glasses with others. "Clara, I’m so happy you came to celebrate with us! To be honest, I'm surprised you're able to come."
Clara hesitated as she stared at the clear liquid in her glass because although her body looked intact, her body remained in the condition of her death. Since her internal organs had been shattered in the accident, what kind of excruciating pain might she feel if she drank the wine? So, she just stood there motionless and she was unwilling to raise the wine glass in her hand.
The surrounding guests exchanged awkward glances and their expressions subtly changed.
When he saw the embarrassment in Rea's face, Ian's face turned cold and he looked at Clara with a warning in his eyes.
"Rea offered you a drink and you refuse to accept it?"
The cold voice rang in her ears and it made Clara's whole-body shudder. Finally, she lifted the glass and downed the clear liquid in one gulp.
The burning liquid scorched her throat and an unbearable pain tore through her insides. Her already broken body screamed in agony, her face turning deathly pale. Unable to endure it, she shoved past the crowd and rushed to the restroom.
She barely made it before collapsing in front of the toilet. She violently vomited out every drop she had just swallowed.
When she heard the retching sounds from the toilet, Rea’s face turned pale, her voice carrying a trace of grievance sounded, "Clara … do you hate me that much?"
The moment those words left her lips, Ian's face darkened. He gently patted Rea's hand, his gaze firm as he reassured her, "That’s impossible. No one would hate you."
With that, he turned and strode toward the toilet to check what it was all about.