Chapter 95: Chapter 95: Co On, Get Symtrical in Front of Dad
To counter him pushing his luck, Holly Winslow shouted toward the kitchen, "Dad, Mortir Quincy says he wants to co help you." After speaking, she gave him a smug little shake of her head.
’Go on, try sothing,’ she thought. ’See if Dad doesn’t rearrange your face.’
’And if he doesn’t send you flying, then my na isn’t Winslow.’
Mortir Quincy: "..."
Hearing the kitchen doorknob turn, he imdiately sat up straight. He then stood, and upon seeing Wyatt Winslow erge from the kitchen, he blurted out, "Dad, I’ll help you."
Hearing the word "Dad," Holly suppressed a laugh and shot Mortir a look that scread, ’You’re dead at.’
Mortir, realizing what he’d just said, was speechless. "..."
It wasn’t the first ti Wyatt Winslow had heard this. He pressed his lips together, pretending he hadn’t heard anything. "Is your howork done?"
"I finished it at school," Mortir replied dutifully.
Wyatt turned and went back into the kitchen, quickly returning with a bundle of long beans and a basket. He set them on the table. "Do you know how to trim these?"
Mortir glanced at his "wife," who had her head down, stifling a laugh. "Yes, I do it all the ti." With that, he sat down and began trimming the beans.
Seeing his deft movents, it was clear he wasn’t lying. Wyatt watched for a mont before looking away and returning to the kitchen.
The kitchen door closed. Holly pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of Mortir. The boy, dressed in a plain black t-shirt, had his head slightly lowered, accentuating the sharp line of his jaw.
’Sohow, these cheap long beans look like jade in his hands.’
"Can’t tear your eyes away from your handso husband?" Mortir asked, raising an eyebrow.
Holly Winslow: "..."
She put down her phone, glanced at the kitchen door, and called out softly, "Dad."
Mortir’s hands froze. A dozen different excuses flashed through his mind. When several seconds passed with no response, he turned his head. Wyatt wasn’t there.
Staring at Holly, whose eyes were curved into crescents from smiling, the corners of his own eyes lifted. Just as he was about to speak, a phone started ringing.
The phone on the coffee table belonged to Wyatt. Holly glanced at the screen. It was a call from Yvonne Lewis. The smile vanished from her face as she reached out and answered. "Hello."
On the other end, Yvonne Lewis’s voice was frantic. "Holly, put your father on the phone."
Holly had already guessed what this was about. She tightened her grip on the phone, a flicker of scorn in her eyes. "Dad’s busy. If this is about the Lewis Family’s affairs, then don’t bother saying another word."
She paused before adding, "Dad isn’t here to clean up your sses. From now on, please don’t bother my dad. Don’t contact him."
"My dad has his own life to live." As she spoke, her nose began to sting with unshed tears.
In her past life, she never found out how the Lewis Family’s problem was resolved. She only rembered that during that period, the sll of cigarette smoke had clung heavily to Wyatt.
On the other end of the line, Yvonne was rendered speechless. "Holly..."
Holly hung up.
Mortir barely knew anything about Yvonne Lewis, other than the fact that Holly’s relationship with her mother was icy.
He hadn’t expected it to be this bad.
’No wonder Holly had told him after they were married, "Honey, I have a good mom now, too."’
The kitchen door had cracked open, only to slowly swing shut again. Wyatt leaned against the other side, taking off his glasses to wipe the corners of his eyes. A minute or two later, the sounds of stir-frying resud.
During dinner, Wyatt didn’t bring it up, acting as if he had no idea Yvonne had called. After they finished eating, Holly went to wash the dishes.
Wyatt called Mortir into the bedroom. Looking at the young man, who was now half a head taller than him, he had to admit that Mortir was an outstanding individual for his age.
Wyatt pressed his lips together. "Mortir, my Holly is a good girl. She’s very mature for her age."
Mortir understood. He was afraid Mortir would think less of Holly because of the Lewis Family’s issues. He replied earnestly, "Uncle Winslow, nothing anyone else does could ever change how I see Holly."
Seeing his earnest expression, Wyatt grunted in acknowledgnt. "You and Holly need to focus on your studies."
Mortir nodded.
Neither said anything more. They soon left the bedroom, and Mortir went to the kitchen to help Holly with the dishes.
After washing the dishes, Mortir went ho.
As Holly was doing howork in her room, she heard a sound from Wyatt’s bedroom. The pressure of her pen increased, leaving a small black dot on the paper.
Inside his room, Wyatt lit a cigarette and walked out onto the balcony. He took a drag and exhaled slowly, the smoke blurring his vision. "Yvonne, I don’t owe you anything."
Whether from the smoke or his emotions, the man’s voice was raspy to the extre.
Yvonne was silent for a mont. "Wyatt, I know I wronged you, but you can’t force feelings that aren’t there."
She and Vincent Vance had been first loves, but they had broken up for various reasons. Later, she was set up with Wyatt and married him. Wyatt was a good man; if not for Vincent, she might have been content to spend her whole life with him.
"You didn’t wrong . You wronged Holly." Wyatt took another drag from his cigarette. "Don’t call
about the Lewis Family’s affairs again."
Yvonne rubbed her brow, her tone softening considerably. "Can’t this business with the Lewis Family be settled privately?"
Throughout the entire call, she hadn’t once asked if Holly was all right. Wyatt’s voice turned to ice. "No." He hung up and imdiately blocked Yvonne’s number.
He sat on the balcony for a long ti before finally getting up. He went into his bedroom, changed his clothes, and then went to Holly’s room. Looking at her pale, sweet face, he said, "Holly, from now on, Dad won’t get involved with the Lewis Family’s business anymore."
Holly glanced at his changed clothes and bit her lip. "Dad..." ’Dad,’ she wanted to say, ’please stop holding on to Yvonne. She’s not worth it.’
’But you couldn’t asure matters of the heart in terms of worth.’
Instead, she put on a cheerful act. "Dad, let’s go play basketball! It’s been so long."
"Okay," Wyatt said.
The two of them changed into athletic clothes, grabbed a basketball, and headed to the court in their residential complex.
There was hardly anyone there.
Holly retied her ponytail, shaking her head like a little kid. "Dad," she said happily, "sa old rules. Loser buys ice cream bars, okay?"
A faint smile touched Wyatt’s lips. "Okay."
Wyatt let Holly win on purpose.
He took Holly to the convenience store at the entrance of the complex and bought ice cream bars. Holly tore open the wrapper and took a lick. The coldness made her exclaim, "Whoa!" She grinned. "It’s great having a dad. I get free ice cream."
Wyatt glanced at the brand of the ice cream bar.
As they reached the bottom of their apartnt building, Holly suddenly said, her tone serious, "Dad, you should stop smoking."
Wyatt froze. Looking at Holly’s innocent young face, the guilt in his heart deepened. He didn’t want his seventeen-year-old daughter to have to be as sensible as an adult.
"Okay," he said. "I’ll stop."
When Holly got ho, she found 99
notifications on her phone, all from that rascal, Mortir.
She muttered to herself, ’I told him I was going to play basketball, and he still spamd .’
But her heart felt warm all the sa. Snuggling under her covers, she began to scroll up through the chat log. His "passionate" barrage of ssages appeared before her eyes.
My Lady Wife.
Long live my wife.
Wife, I love you.
Wife, I’ll sing you a song of surrender.
...
Holly’s nose tingled. ’Silly husband,’ she thought, ’what’s with all the drama?’
She tapped out a reply on the screen: I want to hear "Two Tigers."
A mont later, a voice ssage from Mortir arrived. The boy’s distinctive, magnetic voice sang, "Two little tigers, two little tigers, run so fast, run so fast. One has no ears, and one has no tail. So strange, so strange..."
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