Chasing His Scentless Mate

Chapter 379 Drunken Misery

Ava’s POV

My apartment had been a mess for this week. Witchcraft books were scattered on my coffee table, takeout containers filled my trash can, and I kept the blinds closed to block out the sunlight.

I stared at my phone again, looking through old messages with Joseph. Nothing new. Not even a simple "I’m back" text. The last message was from before his business trip.

"This is pathetic," I muttered, tossing my phone aside.

My life had become a sad routine— wake up at noon, look at spell books, order food, watch TV, and cry myself to sleep. I’d taken leave from work, saying I needed personal time. The truth was I couldn’t face the world when my heart felt broken.

When my phone rang, I jumped. For a moment, I hoped it was Joseph. The caller ID crushed that hope.

"Kenneth," I answered with a sigh.

"Ah, so the hibernating bear awakens!" Kenneth’s warm, rich voice filled the line. "Let me guess, you’re sitting in your apartment wearing pajamas at 3 PM, surrounded by books, and feeding exclusively on despair and takeout."

Despite myself, I laughed. "Good guessing. Are you spying on me?"

"No need when you’re so predictable, my dear Ava," he chuckled. "Listen, I can’t stand the thought of you wasting away in there for another night. Have dinner with me this evening. It’s not a request."

I looked down at my wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants. "I don’t know if I’m fit for public consumption right now."

"Nonsense," Kenneth insisted. "I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something nice. You need fresh air before you start growing mushrooms on your skin."

"Charming image," I replied dryly. "Fine. Seven it is."

Kenneth’s idea of "somewhere nice" was Harbor Bay’s most exclusive rooftop restaurant. Getting reservations usually took months unless you were someone important. Kenneth was clearly someone important.

"This is... excessive," I said as we sat at a table overlooking the bay. The sunset painted the sky orange and purple, reflecting off the water.

Kenneth looked perfect in his suit, his salt-and-pepper hair styled just right. At fifty, he had that distinguished look that came with age and confidence.

"Nothing excessive about treating a beautiful young lady to a good meal," he replied, ordering expensive wine without checking the price.

I’d made an effort, wearing a black dress and putting on makeup, but I felt empty inside. The food came. Beautiful seafood that should have made me hungry, but I just pushed it around my plate.

"You know," Kenneth said after watching me, "the food tastes better if you actually eat it instead of rearranging it into abstract art."

I smiled weakly. "Sorry. It’s delicious, really. I’m just not very hungry."

Kenneth studied me, then asked for the check. "This isn’t working, is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"This." He pointed around at the fancy restaurant. "You need something livelier. Come on, I have a better idea."

Thirty minutes later, we stopped in front of Pulse, one of Harbor Bay’s trendiest nightclubs. Bass music pounded through the walls, and young people lined up around the block.

"You can’t be serious," I said, staring at Kenneth.

He grinned, looking younger in the lights. "What? Did you expect me to take you to some stuffy cigar lounge where old men play poker and talk about their stock portfolios?"

The bouncer recognized Kenneth and let us skip the line. The people who’d been waiting for hours looked annoyed.

Inside, the club was full of energy. Lights pulsed with the music, people danced, and bartenders flipped bottles around.

"Bourbon, neat," Kenneth told the bartender, then looked at me. "And for the lady?"

"Tequila shots," I decided. "Four of them."

Kenneth raised an eyebrow. "Starting strong, I see."

I downed the first shot right away, welcoming the burn that took my mind off the pain in my chest.

"Slow down," Kenneth warned as I reached for the second. "If I had a daughter, I’d be deeply concerned about her drinking this much in a club."

I threw back the second shot and smiled sarcastically. "Well, lucky me. I don’t have a boring old dad to rain on my parade."

Kenneth laughed. "Touché."

By my third tequila shot, the music felt good. By the fourth, I was pulling Kenneth to the dance floor. He moved surprisingly well for his age, keeping up with the younger crowd without looking silly.

Two hours and more drinks later, I was drunk but feeling better than I had in days. The alcohol had numbed the pain, at least for now.

"We should probably get you home," Kenneth said, checking his watch. "It’s nearly midnight, and I brought you here to cheer you up, not induce alcohol poisoning."

"Just one more drink," I pleaded, but he was already asking for the bill.

"I may be fun, but I’m still responsible," he insisted. "Your head will thank me tomorrow."

My phone buzzed in my purse as we were leaving. I fumbled to get it, my heart jumping when I saw Joseph’s name.

The message was short and harsh:

"You moved on quickly."

I looked up, scanning the crowded club. Was he here? Had he seen me with Kenneth? The thought made my stomach twist with hope and anger.

"Something wrong?" Kenneth asked, noticing my mood change.

"Just a text from a complete idiot," I snarled, shoving my phone back in my purse.

The warm feeling from the alcohol turned into cold anger. How dare he? After weeks of silence, after I’d seen his photo with Sophia, he had the nerve to judge me for having dinner with a friend?

"The nerve of some people," I muttered, walking toward the exit.

Kenneth followed, looking concerned. "Want to talk about it?"

"No," I snapped, then felt guilty. "Sorry. It’s not you. It’s just... men are unbelievable sometimes."

"As a representative of the gender, I apologize," he said lightly, guiding me through the crowd. "Though some of us aren’t completely terrible."

The night air hit me when we stepped outside, making me realize how drunk I was. Kenneth held my elbow to steady me as we walked to his car.

"Of course only professional mourners cry over the dead," I said, the alcohol making me talk. "And clearly I’m not professional enough to keep crying over someone who doesn’t care."

Kenneth didn’t ask for details. He just drove me home quietly. When we reached my building, he helped me out of the car.

"Thanks for tonight," I said, swaying a little. "Do you want to come up for a coffee or something?"

Kenneth smiled kindly. "Ava, you should know that inviting any man to your apartment when you’re this beautiful and intoxicated isn’t the wisest decision. For the sake of my gentlemanly reputation, I’ll see you only downstairs."

Heat rushed to my face, though it probably looked the same as my alcohol flush. Joseph’s text had clearly messed with my judgment more than I wanted to admit.

"Right," I mumbled, embarrassed. "That was... sorry."

"No need to apologize," he assured me. "Get some water and sleep it off. I’ll check on you tomorrow."

I nodded and hurried inside.

When I reached my apartment door, I couldn’t believe who was waiting for me.