"Stop the car! Stop, stop, stop..."
The car was speeding down the road to the suburbs when Clara Grant, who had been silent the whole ti, finally couldn’t take it anymore and yelled at Seth Quinn, who was driving, to stop.
Seth Quinn slamd on the brakes. The tires screeched against the pavent with a piercing "SCREECH" as the car pulled over to the side of the road.
Seth Quinn’s brow furrowed slightly. Just as he was about to look at Clara Grant, she quickly threw open her door, jumped out, and ran to the side of the road to throw up.
Startled, Seth Quinn quickly got out of the car as well. He walked up behind her, patted her on the back, and asked, "Are you okay?"
His only answer was the sound of her retching repeatedly.
Clara Grant vomited until there was nothing left in her stomach, leaving her with only dry heaves.
Seth Quinn ran back to the car, grabbed a bottle of water from the glove compartnt, and ca back. Seeing that she had finally straightened up, he twisted off the cap and handed it to her. "Here, take a sip and rinse your mouth."
But Clara Grant didn’t take the water. Instead, she turned around and snapped at him angrily, "Seth Quinn, are you trying to fucking murder your own husband?"
Seth Quinn was slightly taken aback. He never thought she would actually curse! But then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
To be honest, he was a bit of a chauvinist. He believed it was fine for n to curse a little, but it was absolutely unacceptable for won. Not even a single word.
He didn’t know what other n thought, but he, for one, really disliked won who cursed. In fact, he found it repulsive.
And yet, when it ca to Clara Grant, not only was he not repulsed, he actually found her a little cute when she cursed. What was wrong with him?
Even the unpleasant sll from her mouth after throwing up without rinsing didn’t seem so pungent. Regarding that, Seth Quinn had to wonder if there was sothing wrong with his sense of sll.
Besides, what was that about "murdering your own husband"? Wasn’t he supposed to be the husband in this scenario?
A smile played on Seth Quinn’s lips as he said unhurriedly, "Murdering my own husband? Are you into role-reversal? Hmm, if you are, I don’t mind."
Of course, Clara Grant had no idea what he was imagining, but his words were enough to make her both flustered and annoyed.
She snatched the water bottle from his hand and, without a second thought, yelled at him, "Only a pervert would be into that! For the record, when I said ’murdering a husband,’ I ant the husband *of the wife*! Okay?!"
With that, she took a sip of water and rinsed her mouth. The taste was so foul she couldn’t even stand it herself.
Seth Quinn watched her, a strange feeling rising in his heart. ’Did she just call herself his wife? Does this an she’s starting to accept her role as Mrs. Quinn?’
"Hmm, Wife? That makes sense, I suppose. Wife... I like the sound of that."
Clara Grant hadn’t even noticed what she’d said, but now, hearing him say "Wife" twice, she suddenly realized her slip-up.
She accidentally swallowed a mouthful of rinse water and choked, bending over as she broke into a fit of violent coughs.
Seth Quinn’s brow furrowed again as he worriedly patted her back. ’Choking while just rinsing her mouth... she’s really sothing else.’
He had no idea that he was the "culprit" who had caused it all!
When Clara Grant had more or less stopped coughing, she straightened up. Seth Quinn spoke up with concern, "Are you alright now, Wife?"
Clara Grant felt another cough coming on. She held up a hand to stop him. "Can you stop calling that! It sounds weird!"
But Seth Quinn looked completely serious. "Weird is fine, as long as you don’t hate it. You’ll get used to it the more you hear it."
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