Seth Quinn straightened his clothes and walked over to her. "Are you hungry? Let’s go downstairs and get sothing to eat."
With that, he headed for the door, opened it, and started downstairs.
’Eat?’ Clara Grant followed behind him, the situation feeling stranger the more she thought about it. "Wait, weren’t you supposed to take to see Cherie? Why did you bring to your house?"
Seth Quinn, who was ahead of her, stopped short. Caught off guard, Clara walked right into him. Thankfully, they weren’t moving fast, so it was just a light bump, but her nose still throbbed a little.
’Is this man made of steel? His back is so hard!’ Clara thought resentfully, rubbing her nose.
The man turned around. He was so tall that whenever he looked at her, Clara always felt like he was looking down on the entire world.
"Soone was sleeping like a dead pig, and I couldn’t wake her up no matter how much I called, so I had no choice but to bring her ho first." He raised an arm and rotated it a few tis, frowning as he continued,
"You look so thin, I don’t know how you’re so heavy to carry. It was just from downstairs to the apartnt, but my arms are sore from holding you."
Clara was furious. ’He called a dead pig again!’
Just as she was about to snap back at him, she heard the man speak again in a lazy tone. "A correction: this isn’t just my ho, it’s your ho now, too. You’re my wife, so my house is naturally yours."
"According to marriage law, you bought this house before we were married, so it will naturally remain yours. Even if we get a divorce, I won’t get a single cent of it. During the marriage, I only have temporary residency rights."
"You woman!" Seth Quinn gritted his teeth. ’Does she have to be such a killjoy? Bringing up divorce again and again, ruining the good atmosphere we had.’
"What about ..." Clara, unwilling to back down, tilted her chin up stubbornly to reply.
But she never got to finish her sentence, because her lips were suddenly covered by his.
It wasn’t exactly gentle—it had a punishing quality to it, but it wasn’t harsh either.
A long mont passed...
"Are you still going to bring up that word?" Seth Quinn’s lips parted slightly from hers, but the hand supporting the back of her head didn’t move.
Clara’s eyes were hazy. She stared blankly for a second before she realized what "word" he was talking about.
’Does he think a kiss will stop from saying it?’
"Of course I am. Di—"
Before she could finish the word, her lips were sealed again.
After a while, the man released her again and asked, "Still want to bring it up?"
"Yes—"
The rest of her word was silenced...
After a very long ti, the man finally let her go and asked again, "How about now?"
Clara gasped for fresh air, licking her slightly swollen lips. They were numb and sore. She finally surrendered.
"I’m hungry."
As if on cue, her stomach let out a few loud RUMBLES.
"Let’s go eat." Only then did Seth Quinn remove his hand from the back of her head. He let it slide naturally down her arm to her hand, then took it and led her downstairs.
The gesture was so natural, so practiced, as if he had done it thousands, tens of thousands of tis.
It was as if they were a loving couple who had been married for years, doing the most ordinary of things.
Led by him, Clara followed his steps downstairs involuntarily, her eyes fixed on their clasped hands for a long ti.
She’d wanted to pull away, but after a mont’s hesitation, she didn’t move, letting him lead her down the stairs.
Just as Seth Quinn had said, if divorce was truly impossible for them in this lifeti, then maybe she should try to accept him—and accept the way a husband and wife interact.
Even if they never fell in love, they could at least coexist peacefully and live out their days calmly, like any ordinary married couple.
User Comments
0 comments from readers