"He's being unfaithful to me," Linda whimpers, her voice thick with tears. "He pins the blame for the miscarriage on me, but I didn't do a single thing to hurt our baby. He completely refused to hire a maid, so I was forced to handle every bit of the housework alone—and that's exactly how I lost the child," she sobs, heartbroken.
"Don't be so hard on yourself, Linda," John murmurs, pulling her into a protective embrace. "I'm going to have a serious word with Thomas. His mother and I certainly didn't raise him to be this cold-hearted. I have no idea what's possessed him. His mother would be absolutely ashamed in her grave; we brought him up surrounded by love and affection," John says, offering what comfort he can.
"Pull yourself together, child. I'll handle Thomas," Mr. John says, exhaling a long sigh of pure frustration. "I'll instruct the housekeeper to prepare a bed and a warm bath for you here. You're completely exhausted, and I won't have you heading back home in this condition." He guides her toward the living room.
"You can rest on this sofa while the housekeeper gets your room ready. You're going to be okay." Mr. John gently eases her down onto the cushioned seat.
"Tha... thank you, sir. You're truly kind," Linda stammers, she releases a faint smile before she lets out a long belch. "I wish Thomas had inherited even a little bit of your character," she adds with a soft, bitter chuckle. "But all he ever does is punish me for something I had no control over," she continues, her voice dropping back into a slow sob. "I never intended to sleep with him... you believe me, don't you?" She asks, holding Mr. John's hands tightly as they sit together on the sofa.
"Calm down, Linda. You've had far too much to drink. You need to stop talking and just rest. Your room will be set in a few minutes." He stands up, intending to leave, and calls out for Simon. "Simon, please have someone prepare a guest room for my daughter-in-law," he requests with his usual politeness.
"Right away, sir," Simon replies, immediately departing to ensure a housekeeper gets the room in order. Mr. John turns back to face Linda. "I need to go freshen up now. You'll be well looked after," he says with a pleasant smile, turning to make his exit.
"Please, don't go," Linda pleads, grabbing his hand to stop him as she exhales another long, gin-soaked breath.
"Oh, dear!" He relents, returning to sit beside her. "I'm right here." He gently guides her head to rest against his chest, hoping to keep her calm until she starts to sober up. However, she slowly lifts her gaze and presses her lips firmly against his. Caught off guard, he shortly loses himself in the kiss before regaining his senses and pushing her away.
The sound of footsteps echoes near the doorway. "Your room is ready now, ma'am," Simon announces.
"Ahem," Mr. John clears his throat, quickly putting some physical distance between himself and Linda to avoid suspicion. "Up you get, Linda. You desperately need some sleep." He attempts to help her stand, but Simon rushes forward to take over the task.
"Oh sure, we can go in together, father-in-law. I bet you're feeling just as restless as I am," she says, giggling loosely. "If your son were even half the man you are, I would absolutely worship the ground he walks on," she adds, staggering as Simon leads her toward her quarters.
"Be gentle with her, Simon. She's had quite a lot to drink," John says, distractedly running a hand through his hair. Simon guides Linda to her room while John retreats to his own.
"My father-in-law is so attractive," Linda giggles to herself. "My husband is his total opposite, and I'm finished being his servant. He treats me like garbage; I'm never enough for him," she cries softly.
"It's alright, ma'am. You really need to sleep now." Simon carefully settles her into the bed, puts out the lamps, and quietly leaves for his quarters.
The hallway falls into a deep silence as the lights go out. Mr. John is in his bedroom, fresh from a warm bath and still wrapped in a white bathrobe. He sits on the edge of his mattress, scrolling through his phone, when his door slowly opens.
"Oh! What are you doing in here? I gave orders for them to put you to bed. You need sleep so the alcohol can wear off, Linda."
Linda walks slowly into the room, dressed in a pink bathrobe, and comes to a stop directly in front of her father-in-law. "Maybe there's a better way to clear my head."
She slowly unties the knot of her robe, letting the fabric slide heavily to the floor.