CHAPTER 486: THE ONE WHO ALWAYS LIKED ME

Clyde spent the past few days making phone calls, his voice steady even though frustration burned quietly beneath the surface. He contacted every name that mattered: influential figures, directors, and medical board members, arranging a dinner to repair the damage Dean had caused by skipping that important meeting.

By the time he arrived at the restaurant, the place was already filled with soft chatter and clinking glasses. Clyde put on his usual polite smile, though his temples throbbed from the noise. He greeted each guest personally, shaking hands, offering drinks, and apologising on Dean’s behalf.

Clyde’s charm did its job as always. He poured wine, raised toasts, and coaxed out a few smiles. Then he scheduled another appointment for the medical board before the night was over. Everything was handled, at least, on the surface.

When he finally left, the air outside felt cold against his flushed face. The alcohol had gone to his head. He climbed into the car, letting out a long sigh as he loosened his tie around his neck.

He missed Micah. Like hell.

He rubbed his forehead, his mind drifting to that smug voice, those smirks, and the way Micah’s eyes brightened with mischief.

Clyde pulled out his phone, staring at the screen for a moment before pressing call.

He hadn’t gone to the airport earlier; he had wanted to give Micah and Darcy space as they met their families. It had taken everything in him to stay away from Micah. His heart ached, but he knew he should keep his distance. Zhou Ruyan’s warning was not just empty words. And he promised not to appear brazenly beside Micah until the family’s situation settled.

Still, he wanted to hear his voice, see his face even through the screen.

The call rang and rang until it disconnected.

Clyde’s expression fell. "Did he hang up on me?" he muttered, frowning.

He tried again. This time, it was picked up. "What do you want?" Instead of Micah, he heard Darcy’s voice, sharp and flat.

Clyde’s hold on the phone tightened. "Where is Micah?"

"He’s wasted," Darcy said bluntly.

Clyde straightened up in his seat. "What? Why? Did something happen?"

"No clue. He went to Ramsy’s company, apparently..." Darcy began, but his voice was cut off as Clyde interrupted.

"Where are you guys now? Do you have a ride?"

"We’re at his apartment," Darcy replied after a pause. "Just him and me." The way he emphasised those last words made Clyde’s jaw tighten.

"I’ll be there!" Clyde didn’t wait for a response before hanging up the call. His pulse quickened, his mind hazy but alert. He could still feel the alcohol burning in his veins, but none of that mattered now.

He pressed the intercom button in the car. "Turn around," he ordered. "Go to the campus."

As the car turned, Clyde leaned back in the seat, exhaling shakily. His fingers found the wooden prayer beads on his wrists, turning them slowly. The soft click of the beads filled the silence.

Darcy had gotten too close to Micah lately, too close for his liking. And with the way he fell for Micah, Clyde’s inside churned. What if something happened between them? What if they kissed? Or gone further? Even he knew Darcy wasn’t the type to cross lines, but still, the two were too young. What if emotions took over? What if they succumbed to their urges?

The thought made him groan.

By the time the car pulled up in front of the apartment complex, his heartbeat was a chaotic mess. He got out too fast, the night air hitting him like a slap. His steps were uneven, partly from the drinks, partly from panic. He barely knocked before the door opened.

Darcy stood there, wearing loose, homey clothes: a t-shirt and sweatpants. He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

"Where is he?" Clyde blinked at him, breathing heavily.

"Wow! You really came running! Were you scared?" Darcy tilted his head, lips curling. "What are you, his guard dog or something? Wagging your tail for your master, protecting him from a big bad villain?"

Clyde’s mind buzzed, unfocused by the alcohol. "Are you drunk too? You’re not making sense."

Darcy stared at him for a few seconds before stepping aside. "Come in."

Clyde brushed past him, his eyes scanning the room. The faint scent of alcohol and citrus hung in the air. Bottles littered the short coffee table in front of the sofa, and slumped over the table was Micah.

He looked peaceful and miserable all at once, his cheek pressed against his folded arm.

Clyde’s heart twisted. He knelt down beside the sofa, gently brushing aside a few empty bottles. "Why did you let him drink this much?" he said, his voice sharp with concern. "You know his stomach can’t handle it."

Darcy pursed his lips as he leaned against the wall. "I’m not his babysitter."

Clyde ignored him, thinking alcohol had changed Darcy’s attitude too much. He reached out, pushing Micah’s soft hair away from his face. "Hey," he murmured. "Micah."

Micah stirred, his lashes fluttering. His eyes opened halfway, unfocused and hazy but when he saw Clyde, a small smile broke across his face. "Clyde..." he whispered.

"Mmm," Clyde hummed quietly as he stared at the boy’s face: Cheeks flushed, eyes glossy and red.

"You are the only one who always liked me..." Micah mumbled incoherently all of a sudden.

Clyde froze, confused as he couldn’t catch the words. "What?"

Micah blinked at him rapidly, lips parted slightly.

"Did you cry?" Clyde asked softly, gently touching the corner of Micah’s eyes.

But Micah was unresponsive, just staring dumbly at him.

Clyde glanced at Darcy. "What happened? Did he have a fight with his family?"

Darcy shrugged, his tone dry. "Beats me. He showed up this evening, dragged me here after settling my mum and sister downstairs, then started drinking like a maniac."

"He didn’t say why?" Clyde pressed, his eyes softening as he looked back at Micah. "Why is he here instead of Ramsy’s mansion?"

"Nope. He said he would stay here until I agreed to go back with him. Emotional blackmail." Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Alright," Clyde said, knowing Micah was determined to get Darcy back to the Ramsy family. "You can go back. I’ll take care of him tonight."

Darcy’s head snapped up. "Nice try! He is my mother’s son. I’m not leaving him alone with a beast." His eyes narrowed in challenge. "Just put him in his bed and either leave or crash on the couch. I’ll take the guest room."

Darcy stared at him intently, then, seeing no reaction, he walked straight to the kitchen.

Clyde exhaled, rubbing his temple. Tonight, he couldn’t figure Darcy out. The hostility and sarcasm were far out of character.