Only after speaking did she realize the words had tumbled out before she could stop them, and her pretty face instantly flushed red.
Seth Quinn, however, seed to quite enjoy it. His face, which had been dark and sullen just a mont ago, now showed a hint of warmth. He gazed at her intently for a mont before a small smile played on his lips.
"So you do rember your place. Since you know I’m your husband and you’re my wife, well, we can forget about you repaying . It’s my honor to be of service to my wife."
Clara Grant nearly spat out the mouthful of water she had just taken. How had she never realized that the cold, aloof Seth Quinn could be so slick?
She wanted to argue but found she had no grounds to stand on.
So, she just shot him a resentful glare and went back to ignoring him.
Seth Quinn, on the other hand, seed to be in a much better mood. His spirits high, his eyes scanned all the food on the table before locking onto the steak on her plate. He jutted his chin at it. "I want that."
"...I’ve already eaten so of this," Clara Grant said, speechless.
"I don’t mind." The tone he used made it sound as if he were bestowing so great honor upon her.
Clara Grant pouted. ’But *I* mind!’
Of course, she only thought this to herself, not daring to say it aloud.
He didn’t mind her germs, so if he wanted it, she’d just give it to him.
Clara Grant picked up the plate, but just as she was about to move it in front of him, Seth Quinn spoke again. "My hand is injured. Could you do a favor and cut it for ?"
Clara’s hands paused. She set the plate back down in front of herself with a thud and said irritably, "What’s next, do I have to feed it to you, too?"
Though she said that, her eyes couldn’t help drifting toward his hands.
Sure enough, the back of his right hand was red and swollen, and the most severe parts seed to have even bled a little.
She had thought he was lying, but he really was injured. ’But how did it happen?’ It wasn’t a cut, nor was it a burn or scald of so kind. It looked more like he had smashed his hand against sothing heavy.
What’s more, it looked as if the wound hadn’t been treated. Without even realizing it, Clara Grant’s brow furrowed in concern.
"That would be for the best."
"How did you do that?"
They spoke again at the exact sa ti.
"What?"
"What?"
After they both froze for a couple of seconds, they spoke at the sa ti once again, asking the exact sa question.
Clara Grant had asked because her thoughts were almost entirely consud by the injury on Seth Quinn’s hand, making her montarily forget their earlier conversation.
Seth Quinn, on the other hand, hadn’t expected her to show concern for his injury, so her question seed to co out of nowhere.
They both stared blankly for another mont before coming to their senses and understanding what the other had ant.
Clara Grant’s face flushed red again. ’Does he really an he wants to feed him?’
She had never fed a man in her life, but seeing his injured hand, she found she didn’t have the heart to refuse him.
Once Seth Quinn ca to his senses, his heart was suddenly filled with an emotion he could only describe as elation. Yes, elation.
In truth, everything that happened today had been deliberately orchestrated by him: getting her to treat him to dinner, ordering the sa food, wiping the corner of her mouth, the two of them sharing an "affectionate" gaze...
To be honest, even he didn’t fully understand why he was doing these things. It was just a subconscious hope to experience all the sa things with her that she had once experienced with Miles.
He even wanted her to do intimate things for him that she had never done for Miles, just to reassure himself that her relationship with him was ultimately different—and more intimate—than her relationship with Miles.
He wanted to forcibly insert mories of the two of them into the happy recollections she had with Miles.
This was, quite clearly, an act of jealousy. It was just that he had yet to fully understand his own heart.
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