All afternoon, Isabella Weaver’s eyelids were twitching, leaving her feeling restless.
What’s going on?
Is sothing bad about to happen?
Or is it because she didn’t sleep well last night?
At 5:30, after work, Harry Hunter ca to pick her up, and she nestled wearily into his arms, rubbing her eyes.
Harry Hunter’s entire focus was on her, and he sensitively noticed her mood: "What’s wrong? Did soone give you a hard ti?"
Isabella Weaver shook her head gently in his embrace.
No one gave her a hard ti.
Everyone was clearly very compliant, even Cora Ginger ca to her solemnly, apologizing nonstop.
Harry Hunter kissed her on the corner of her forehead, speaking softly: "Then you’re tired? Tomorrow’s the weekend, let’s have a good rest at ho, I’ll be with you."
Isabella Weaver nodded.
The phone in her bag rang, and Harry Hunter took it out, glanced at the ssage, it was from Cora Ginger.
Cora Ginger was inviting her to her house tomorrow, saying she wanted to treat her well.
Harry Hunter coldly clicked delete.
"Who is it from?"
"Spam, I’ve already deleted it for you."
"Oh."
Isabella Weaver trusted him completely, not doubting his words at all, quietly leaning on his chest, hugging his waist for warmth.
Harry Hunter’s heart was soft, he lifted her onto his lap, took off her high heels, massaged her feet, her calves, spoiling her to the point of almost offering his heart to her.
By the ti the car reached the villa, Isabella Weaver was already asleep leaning against him.
Harry Hunter waved off David who was driving and Grace Watt in the passenger seat, staying in the back of the car holding Isabella Weaver, gently adjusting his position to make her sleep more comfortably.
Her mood was clearly off this afternoon, Harry Hunter had received a text from Grace Watt before picking her up from work, knowing that Isabella Weaver had lunch with Cora Ginger and Peter Barnes.
His lively wife was always full of energy, tireless even on late night business trips, he thought it through and decided the issue lay with Cora Ginger.
Isabella Weaver was still too young, yearning for friendship, her emotions swayed by Cora Ginger, this friend.
Harry Hunter bent down to kiss her bright lips, whispering: "You’re such a little fool, who cares if you have no friends, I don’t have friends either? We’re just made for each other."
Isabella Weaver was already sleeping uneasily, waking up after his kiss.
The sky had already darkened, the car was dim, the living room lights bright, the housekeeper busy in the kitchen, the scent of food wafting out.
Her voice was slightly hoarse: "Why didn’t you wake up when we got ho?"
"I wanted you to sleep a bit longer."
Harry Hunter spoke, then carried her out of the car, all the way to the bedroom, placing her on the bed, leaning down to kiss her: "Isabella, you don’t need to worry about anything, you have , rember?"
"Mm."
Isabella Weaver agreed with a sound, "You know Cora ca to again?"
"I know, Grace told , I ordered her to report your whereabouts daily, not missing a single detail."
Isabella Weaver pouted discontentedly: "Isn’t that basically surveilling ? I haven’t had anyone surveil you, it’s not fair."
"It’s not surveillance, it’s protection. If you want to surveil , you can, I’ll have David report my whereabouts to you daily, how many glasses of water I drank, how many tis I went to the bathroom."
Isabella Weaver glared at him: "Why would I need to know these useless things?"
"Mm, if you don’t want to know, then never mind, it does stress out to tell you these things."
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