The Windfalls of Love (Roxanne and Harrison)

Chapter 317

Although Roxanne shot him a glare, a straightforward smile crept onto her lips.

It was a smile that had been absent for far too long.

A smile that came from the heart, pure and real.

As Dominic had said, Harrison was indeed the only one who could breathe life into her once-stilled

heart.

Right then, Roxanne's phone buzzed with a notification.

It was a message from Dominic.

"Hey Roxanne, you up?" Dominic texted.

Roxanne immediately shot back, "Yeah, I'm up. What's up?"

"Just didn't want to disturb your beauty sleep, but since you're awake, I gotta come clean about

something," Dominic typed.

Roxanne cut him off, "You don't have to say anything. I know all about the fake plane crash news. You

cooked up that story for Harrison, didn't you? I'm not mad at you, so no hard feelings."

Dominic was worried she'd hold a grudge.

He had promised never to lie to her again, yet for the sake of her reconciliation with Harrison, he'd

deceived her once more. Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

His conscience was heavy.

After all, the fake news had worn Roxanne down to a shadow of her former self.

He was terrified it might have broken her spirit.

"Really, Dominic, no need for apologies, truly. I should be thanking you. You helped me see what's truly

in my heart. I had a great day today," Roxanne replied.

Meanwhile, Harrison finished blow-drying Roxanne's hair.

She remained engrossed in the conversation, oblivious to Harrison's presence.

She owed her reunion with Harrison to Dominic's interference, his push to help her see her own heart

clearly.

There were a thousand things she wanted to say to Dominic, a flood of gratitude she wanted to

express.

In the chat box, she typed out a message only to delete it.

Words seemed inadequate to convey her thanks. Simple thank-yous felt too light.

Harrison, glancing downwards, noticed how engrossed she was in conversation with another man.

It wasn't jealousy that stirred within him.

He knew Roxanne's true feelings and appreciated Dominic's part in bringing them back together.

He and Dominic were tight now, solid buddies.

Jealousy over Dominic didn't cross his mind.

It was just that, on the first day of their renewed relationship, Roxanne seemed more invested in

chatting with someone else than with him.

He felt a twinge of neglect.

"Roxanne, I need to talk to you," Harrison said, setting aside the hairdryer and pulling up a chair next to

her.

She bit her lip, pondering how to express her gratitude to Dominic, ignoring Harrison.

Harrison felt a pang of sadness. "Roxanne, look at me."

"Just a sec, let me send this message," she mumbled, eyes still glued to her phone.

A stifled frustration built in Harrison's chest.

But unlike other times, he didn't blame Roxanne for her negligence.

He understood the weight of Dominic in her life, a bond that surpassed even family ties.

No one could replace that.

He had no intention of vying for the spot Dominic held in Roxanne's heart.

Harrison waited silently beside her.

Minutes ticked by—three, five. What was just a few minutes felt like an eternity to Harrison, left hanging

in limbo.

His usually calm demeanor was easily shattered by Roxanne. In her presence, his cool was a facade.

Annoyed, he messaged Dominic, "Dominic, give it a rest, will ya? Roxanne and I finally put the pieces

back together. Can't you give us some space?"

"Dude, you won the girl. Don't get greedy," Dominic shot back.

"You've got someone too. Isn't Evelyn a catch?" Harrison teased.

"Cut the crap," Dominic replied, well aware that Harrison was playing matchmaker despite his lack of

interest in Evelyn.

"Evelyn's a great girl, man. She's worked hard to be top-notch in everything since she was young,

never had time for love until she met you. When will you see her for who she really is?" Harrison

pressed.

Dominic didn't respond, his mind suddenly filled with images of Evelyn—her sharp business acumen,

her familial devotion, and the playful charm she reserved just for him.

He could vividly recall her wearing soft pink dresses, following him around like a persistent sunbeam—

or an endearing shadow.

Apart from Roxanne, Evelyn was the only woman who lingered so prominently in Dominic’s memory.

Strange.

When did Evelyn's many facets become so clear in his mind? Was it because she had been chasing

him for so long?

Speak of the devil—Evelyn messaged him.

"Hey Dominic, is my phone broken or something?"

"If your phone's broken, go see a technician," Dominic replied dryly.

"No, it's just that I haven't gotten a message from you in ages. Is it because my phone is broken?"

Her playful tone was unmistakable even through text, but Dominic remained frosty, ceasing to reply.

Ding-dong!

The doorbell rang.

Dominic went to answer it.

Standing there was Evelyn, barging in without invitation, her arms laden with bottles of liquor.

Following her in, Dominic watched as she made herself at home on his sofa, and frowned. "Are you

here to drink with me?"

"Shouldn't you be the one hurting the most today?" Evelyn asked, looking at him intently. "Roxanne and

Harrison are back together. I thought I'd keep you company."

"I don't drown my sorrows in booze," Dominic said coldly.

Evelyn popped open a bottle of high-proof whiskey. The cap clattered onto the coffee table.

"Are you afraid of drinking too much? Scared you'll lose control?" she teased.

Dominic stood still, his gaze lowered. "Provoking me won't work."

With that, he turned away.

"Drink if you want. I've got software to write. Excuse me."

Evelyn, clutching a bottle of whiskey, caught up to Dominic and firmly grasped his arm. "Come on,

Dominic, if you don't want to drink, you don't have to. No pressure, really. I'm just worried about you

being all by your lonesome. Thought you could use some company."

The word 'lonesome' was an understatement for Dominic's state of mind.

His life had been a study of austerity.

Like Roxanne, he too bore the tragic fate of being abandoned by his parents at a young age.

Then, at twenty, he was struck by a serious illness that forced him to lie and leave the woman he loved.

Naturally distant, friends were scarce in his life.

Affection, love, friendship – all the dear things in life seemed to be a luxury of pain he couldn't afford.

He turned slowly, his gaze strained and in the depths of his eyes, a flicker of barely discernible agony.

His eyes settled on the whiskey bottle in Evelyn's hand and he asked in a low voice, "Can booze really

drown the sorrows?"