My Pretty Sweetheart novel Chapter 95

I wanted to strangle Sawyer so much, but I managed to resist the temptation. "I still have a day's time tomorrow. I will try to finish my work in the morning so that I can keep you company for the rest of the day!"

"Okay, then I'll wait for tomorrow!" Monique said and then she hung up the phone.

The taxi stopped near the hotel's entrance. I paid the driver and helped Sawyer get out of the car. It was then when I saw a steep flight of staircases leading to the hotel's front door.

The design of this five-star hotel was too weird. Why must it have that many steps?

Begrudgingly, I had no choice but to slowly help Sawyer up one step at a time. I was lucky that I was on my flat-heeled shoes, or else the situation could be worse.

Halfway through, my phone rang in my bag. When I reached my hands out for it, somehow Sawyer had also drunkenly placed his hands on my waist.

Out of instinct, I shoved him away fiercely, forgetting that we were still on a flight of staircases and a tragedy happened.

Sawyer somehow rolled down the staircases like a perfectly shaped sphere.

I was so shocked that I froze for a long time. It was not until the security guard went to help him that I

came back to my senses. I said hurriedly, "Send him to the hospital!"

I had no clue whether it was common for a drunkard like him to fall often.

With the help of the security guards, things went smoothly after we sent Sawyer to the hospital. Upon preliminary assessment, it was found that Sawyer sustained a minor injury to his head, but he was fine overall. He just needed to be monitored closely in the hospital over the next few days.

After waiting what seemed like an entire day, the alcohol in Sawyer's body had still not dissipated. It was difficult for doctors to tell whether or not he sustained any brain injuries. They just had to wait for him to wake up the next morning.

After the doctors bandaged his wounds, I had to stay back in the hospital because they required someone to watch over Sawyer.

It was midnight when Monique called. I had almost dozed off in the corridor chairs of the hospital by then.

After picking up the phone, I could hear Monique's drunken voice from the other end, "Arianna, want to go shopping?"