?<strong>Chapter 744:</strong>


    That evening, he joined Belinda and Bethany for dinner. It was a gathering they had nned earlier.


    As the evening wore on, Johnson kept pouring himself ss after ss of wine, as if trying to drown his swirling emotions with each sip.


    He chuckled darkly, bitternesscing his words. “You won’t believe what Cathy told me. She said she’s going to give Lnd onest chance…”


    Belinda and Bethany exchanged looks, their concern clear in the way their eyes met.


    Belinda leaned forward, gently cing her hand on his wine ss to stop him from pouring more. Her voice was firm and serious. “Johnson, you need to hear me out…”


    When Johnson raised his gaze to meet Belinda’s, she said, “The rtionship between Catherine and Lnd will notst. Believe me, I’m not just saying this tofort you.”


    Bethany nodded in agreement, her expression serious. “Exactly! Belinda and I overheard Catherine discussing Lnd and Hailee the other day. We both believe there’s no way they’ll stay together for long.”


    Belinda pressed her lips together thoughtfully before saying, “Johnson, Catherine is now an adult. She knows what she’s doing. You shouldn’t interfere too much. It could even backfire. The most prudent course of action for you right now is simply to wait. You’ve been patient for so long—what’s a little longer, right?”


    Johnson remained silent, his gaze distant as he continued to drink, pouring ss after ss of wine for himself. He didn’t touch the foodid out before him; he was solely focused on drinking.


    Seeing Johnson in this state, Belinda and Bethany felt a mix of helplessness and sympathy wash over them. But that was what love was. It could bring joy and sweetness, but it could also bring pain and sorrow. All Belinda and Bethany could do was stay by his side, ready to listen whenever he felt like sharing his thoughts.


    However, it seemed Johnson wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Instead, he was intent on drowning his sorrows in drink. He ignored the tes piled high with food that Belinda and Bethany offered him. Perhaps it was his dismal mood—or perhaps the weight of too many thoughts—but Johnson became drunk quickly. Before long, he was slumped over the table.


    “Belinda, what should we do now?” Bethany inquired softly, concern etched across her features.


    Belinda nced at Johnson, contemting their next move for a moment before retrieving her phone and making a call. The call was answered promptly.


    “Hello, Belinda.”


    “Catherine,” Belinda said, “your brother is drunk. Could youe here and take him home?”


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