Morning.
Isabella Weaver woke up in Harry Hunter’s arms, gave him a good morning kiss, then slipped on her slippers and went downstairs to check on her fish.
Six little fish were swimming around in a round fish tank, looking lively and full of energy.
Isabella stretched lazily in the morning light, feeling happy as she went to wash up.
Harry entered the bathroom, hugging her from behind, bending slightly to rest his chin on her shoulder: "Checking on the fish again?"
"Yep, just making sure they’re still alive. I’m always afraid that when I wake up, all six of them will be dead."
"They won’t."
"How do you know they won’t? Got a crystal ball or sothing?"
"Yeah."
Of course he knew, he could guarantee not a single fish would be missing now.
"You’re not allowed to keep fish anymore."
"Why?"
"Because you care more about the fish than your husband."
Isabella burst into laughter, turned to kiss his cheek: "Mr. Hunter, why are you even jealous of a fish?"
Harry looked in the mirror and saw toothpaste foam on his face, feeling not bad at all, actually quite good: "Not just fish, no other animals are allowed either. If you get any more, my status at ho will drop straight down."
Isabella picked up his toothbrush, put toothpaste on it, and handed it to him: "What about having kids?"
Harry took it: "You don’t need to raise them, the old man will be eager to do it. He’s got experience raising kids."
Ben Hunter was incredibly busy in his youth and had no ti to raise his son, but when he grew old and semi-retired, he had nothing to do and beca very serious about raising his grandson, even seriously raising Connor.
"But you can’t leave everything to Grandpa, I still want to be involved."
Isabella looked at him suspiciously: "Do you not like kids at all?"
"Mm."
"Even the ones I have?"
Harry brushed his teeth, arms around her waist, pulling her closer: "I would love the ones you have, but for now, one child at ho is enough."
Isabella rinsed her mouth, put down the cup, looking up at him: "You really don’t want to have one!"
Harry brushed his teeth, didn’t speak, just gently stroked her head, looking deeply into her eyes, silently affirming his stance.
Isabella pouted, snuggled into his embrace: "I’m not that young, stop treating like a child."
She loved him very much, that’s why she was willing to have a little baby with him. Otherwise, she wouldn’t bother; pregnancy is tough. Several employees at Moonlight Jewelry were having severe morning sickness, swelling, even developing spots and hair loss—being a mom is hard.
Harry held her, awkwardly rinsed his mouth, wiped his face with a towel, and hugged her gently, kissing her softly.
His voice was low: "Baby, I can’t bear it."
He knew better than her how hard it was to nurture a life; he had specifically researched, consulted doctors.
He used to want children; when they first got married, he ntioned wanting her to have one several tis because the Hunter Family needed a next generation.
But with ti spent together, his feelings deepened, she beca increasingly important in his life, and having a child beca secondary.
"Let’s talk about this again when you’re a bit older."
Isabella angrily stomped on his foot: "I’m not young!"
"Just nineteen."
"Nearly twenty!"
"That’s still young."
"You’re the one who’s young!"
Harry’s gaze suddenly turned sowhat dangerous: "What did you say? Say it again?"
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