"Rika, it's not that I don't want to tell you.

You know Matthew's personality. He's just like his father; whatever he thinks never shows up on his face. In my opinion, it doesn't matter what he likes. What matters is your sincerity. For example, you could make him a meal... Actually, forget about that. You don't know how to cook. Maybe you can buy him a gift or make something for him yourself.

It will show your sincerity. What do you think?"

Erica thought it over for a bit and soon saw that Debbie was right. She nodded and said, "Thank you, Mom. I see."

So she had answered her original question, but that only brought her to a new one. Clumsy as Erica was, what could she do for Matthew by herself?

Erica returned to the villa that night. As expected, Matthew hadn't come back from the company yet.

She quickly became bored and got a bottle of red wine out of the cellar. Bringing it back upstairs, she poured it into the decanter, waited a moment, and got out two glasses.

Next, she went and raided the walk-in refrigerator for snacks. As she waited for Matthew, all she could think of to do was eat.

Half an hour passed, and Matthew wasn't back. Feeling a little thirsty,

Erica shrugged and poured herself some wine.

An hour later it was eleven o'clock, and Erica was checking Weibo, still alone.

All the snacks she'd gotten from the refrigerator were long gone, along with half of the bottle of red wine.

It was not until midnight that the sound of a door came through the vestibule of the Living room.

Hearing it, Erica abruptly stood up from her seat and rushed toward the vestibule.

"Matthew!" she called out sweetly.

As if summoned by a spell, Matthew appeared in the Living room. As he changed his shoes, he couldn't miss the aroma of the wine. Taking a look at his approaching wife, he noticed that her face was bright red.

He frowned slightly, wondering how much she had drunk.

Quite oblivious to his mood, Erica threw herself into his arms and hugged his waist.

“Matthew..." she said again, then burped right beside his face.

Stifling a cough, her husband pulled away in disgust.

"How much wine did you drink?" ‘Why did she drink while alone at home?' he wondered.

“Not much. Just a few sips..." Erica mumbled.

‘A few sips?' He didn't believe that for a second. She had probably drunk at least half of a bottle of wine.

Wanting to confirm his guess, he started to head farther into the living room.

However, Erica thought he still didn't want to talk to her. Seeing him walk past, she very suddenly and loudly burst into tears.