Matthew Saxon felt his eyebrows twitch again, and his temples throbbed twice.
"Look at you, you can’t even speak a word. Clearly, you’re feeling guilty and you know very well that everything I’m saying is true."
"..."
"Marriage is really aningless."
"..."
"Matthew Saxon, why aren’t you saying anything? Are you too lazy to even talk to now?"
"..."
"Hmph, indeed, birds of a feather flock together. Not a single one of you n is any good."
Matthew Saxon didn’t know how other couples reacted after getting their marriage certificate, but he figured that his situation with Scarlett Yates was rare.
His newlywed wife, Scarlett, had spent the hour after getting their marriage certificate berating and complaining about him, reducing him to nothing.
When he spoke, he was wrong; when he remained silent, he was even more wrong. Just as she had said before, when she was displeased with him, even his breathing was a mistake.
She kept criticizing and complaining about him until she grew tired, and only then did Matthew Saxon’s ears finally get a mont of peace.
An hour later, Scarlett fell asleep.
She lay in Matthew Saxon’s arms, resting her head on his chest, finding a comfortable position for herself, and within five minutes, she was sound asleep.
There was a blanket on the back seat; Matthew took it to cover her. The blanket was fully cashre, providing excellent warmth. The car’s air conditioning was on full blast, and soon Scarlett murmured that she was too warm and pulled the blanket off.
The blanket was pulled off her, but she still held onto it.
She gripped it tightly, and even though Matthew tugged at it, he couldn’t pull it away.
The blanket was off her, but Scarlett continued to murmur about being hot, her voice so soft that without listening carefully, it was hard to make out what she was saying.
On her fair, delicate face, her eyelashes gently fluttered, as if a butterfly’s wings were fanning.
Scarlett’s lashes were long and thick, distinct one by one, and when her eyes were closed, her lashes fell like little brushes.
Now, those little brushes on her small face were trembling, and a blush appeared on her pale cheeks, as if a dye was slowly spreading.
Suddenly, her little face flushed like a blooming peach blossom, exuding a srizing allure.
Her lips parted and closed, her voice so low that Matthew had to lean in to hear what she was saying.
She said, "Matthew Saxon, I’m scared, you... be gentle."
Matthew paused, stunned, his eyes suddenly darkening.
The eyelash brushes fluttered a few more tis, and her voice dropped lower, softly murmuring, "Matthew Saxon, Matthew Saxon..."
She called his na over and over, gently and tenderly, as if her mouth was filled with honey, making his na sound so rich, so sweet, so intoxicating.
Matthew’s heart felt like it was lting from the sweetness.
He lowered his head and gently kissed her at the corner of her lips, softly calling her na, "Scarlett."
In her sleep, Scarlett seed to hear him and softly murmured again, "Matthew Saxon..."
Her voice quivered slightly, her breathing montarily erratic, her hand gripping the blanket suddenly tightened, her body seemingly tense.
After a few seconds of this state, her body quickly relaxed again, took a few quick breaths, and the hand that had been gripping the blanket released.
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