This ga is getting more and more fun. I picked up the Chinese dicine and blew on it lightly, elegantly drank it, and then imdiately spat it all out from the bitterness.
Henry Preston didn’t know when he had returned. He was standing at the doorway changing his shoes. When he saw spewing out the Chinese dicine, there was a noticeable glint of disdain in his eyes, and his tone was cold, "If you can’t drink it, then don’t."
"Why do you care so much?" I wiped my mouth clean, feeling that Henry had been acting strange these days, and asked back, "Why are you back again?"
He pulled off his tie, the simple and rough action sohow looked handso.
"This is my ho too, is there a problem with coming back?" Henry sat across from , answering expressionlessly.
"Oh, right." I nodded and continued to drink the Chinese dicine with my head down.
But it was too bitter, even though I was used to drinking black coffee without sugar, I couldn’t take this bitterness. The dicine hadn’t even slid down my throat before I spat it out again. This ti, it sprayed further, with so splattering directly on Henry’s face and shirt.
His expression instantly darkened, and he stared coldly at .
I was too bitter to speak, and when I saw the droplets hanging from the tips of Henry’s lashes, I pulled out a tissue and pressed it against his face—this was my last bit of courtesy.
Henry grabbed my hand and flung it away. Startled by the disgust in his gaze, familiar bitterness spread through my heart.
"Sorry, the dicine is too bitter." I kept calm and threw the tissue in my hand to the ground.
Henry didn’t answer . He just got up and went upstairs to change his clothes.
At that mont, Auntie Lawson ca in, deftly tidying up the ssy scene. She was more diligent and attentive than others.
"Auntie Lawson, go and make dinner." After she finished cleaning, I spoke up sowhat wearily.
Auntie Lawson nodded and went to the kitchen to start working.
I pinched my nose and finished drinking the rest of the Chinese dicine. Eating more food alone wasn’t enough for ; I had to nourish my internal organs to gain so weight.
After drinking the dicine, I went upstairs to the music room. I unwrapped the dust cover and took out the cello I hadn’t touched in a long ti, playing the strings on my own. The deep and elegant sound filled the entire room.
I was absorbed in the music, reminiscing about everything I had experienced, unaware of when Henry had pushed open the music room door.
"It’s so noisy," he said irritably.
I originally didn’t want to play anymore, but hearing what Henry said, I got agitated. In my previous life, I put away my beloved cello because he found it noisy.
Now that I think about it, no wonder Crystal Dawson and the others called brain-dead.
In a fit of anger, I randomly drew the bow across the strings, creating an annoying sound that made Henry’s handso brows lock up directly.
"Then get divorced, live separately, I could even play the suona and it wouldn’t bother you." I put down the bow gracefully, speaking gently.
"Seems like we can live separately even without a divorce." Henry replied sarcastically.
"Then why do you co back?" Recently, I’ve been puzzled as well. What in this house is attracting Henry back?
It can’t be , can it?
Henry seed unable to adapt to my sharp tongue, his face growing darker. With his temperant, he should have turned around and left, a random call would afford him a gentle embrace.
But he clearly held back his anger and instead asked , "Zoe Hathaway, you seem to really not want to co back. Have you found soone new?"
Could it be he’s frequently coming back because he suspects I’m having an affair, hoping to catch in the act?
I widened my eyes, "Is there a problem? Didn’t you say as long as I don’t expose it, it’s fine?"
"Are you goddamn really giving a green hat?!" Henry fiercely questioned.
"Gender equality, if you can do it, why can’t I?" I retorted.
As we were confronting each other, Laura Lawson’s cautious voice intruded, "Mr. Preston, Madam, dinner is ready."
I pushed Henry aside and went downstairs to eat, no longer wanting to torture my body for him.
Auntie Lawson’s cooking was quite good, three dishes and a soup, all beautifully presented and delicious. I finished two bowls of rice in one go, catching a glimpse of Henry heading down and leaving.
"It’s really good, Auntie Lawson, whoever becos your husband and child is truly blessed." I praised Laura Lawson with a smile after finishing the last sip of soup.
Laura Lawson felt a bit embarrassed, "Madam, these are just simple ho-cooked dishes, you’re too kind."
I shook my head, "It’s not an exaggeration, it’s genuinely delicious. Haven’t your family ever praised you?"
"My daughter also likes my cooking, often urging to open a small restaurant. That child of hers thinks things are too simple." Auntie Lawson spoke about her daughter, her eyes full of love.
The smile on my lips faded a bit, "She’s not wrong. Sotis when luck arrives, achieving your goals is easy."
In my previous life, before I died, I wanted to see Henry one last ti. My mom told he was at an opening ceremony for his future mother-in-law’s restaurant, couldn’t co over.
Of course, he invested in the restaurant, which ranked among the top three in City A, and the event was quite grand.
"Our family of three are just ordinary citizens, not much luck, Madam." Laura Lawson politely responded with a hint of humility.
"When luck cos, you can’t stop it, Auntie Lawson, what if your daughter marries well?" I really wanted to imdiately tell her not to be so self-deprecating, and that the ti for their family of three to rise to prominence would arrive in less than half a month.
But I restrained myself, and after seeing Laura Lawson give an awkward smile, I left the dining table.
The Vaughn family isn’t bad-hearted; I admit that.
In my previous life, her parents strongly opposed her being with Henry at first. She was still in college and deeply involved with a married man, which was disgraceful if known.
But gradually, Laura Lawson and Walter Vaughn were moved by Henry’s persistence and decided to accept it.
However, they never considered that while they were all overjoyed, I, the original wife, was going through my most painful ordeal.
After taking a shower, I comfortably lay on the bed, browsing through my phone as usual before sleep. I happened to co across a piece of nightlife entertainnt news about Henry buying a good ti at a bar, accompanied by Silas Lockwood and two or three beautiful won.
Henry is a man who cos with his own fanfare, given his status. Even if he’s seen eating a mundane bowl of hot and sour noodles by the roadside, it would make trending searches.
As his wife, I often appear in the comnt sections.
"His wife really has patience, I would call her the Ninja Goddess!"
"If he were my husband, I’d gladly take care of the mistress in confinent."
"Why are you so ingratiating, comnter above? If you’re really faced with such disgusting situations, you couldn’t stand it either, leave it to to bear then!"
"A bunch of morally bankrupt people, Henry’s rumored partners since marriage could fill the sky, no sense of male propriety."
"This paparazzi’s skills are lacking; they always miss the crucial shots."
So pitied , so envied , and so mocked , but I just laughed them all off.
Just as I was about to drift into sleep, Leah Lane’s call startled away my drowsiness.
Her tone was urgent, "Zoe, co quickly, sothing’s happened!"
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