Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

Chapter 255

Joy stopped her tirade mid-rant when the person in question bolted, leaving her fuming.

Then there was that assistant, looking like he couldn’t decide if he was more human or hound, who had the audacity to bring a recorder, suggesting she finish her rant into it so they could play it back for Mr. Richardson later

As if! Nothing about that recorder was as gratifying as punchable Curtis. How was she supposed to unleash her fury on a piece of plastic?

“Mark my words, we’ll see who’s faster next time!”

By the time Joy returned, she was doubly incensed.

Because Selina had just spilled the beans about Leanne’s past struggle with severe depression during their car ride, slapping her thigh in frustration for not having joined in on bashing Curtis earlier.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? And I was feeling guilty about our last bar hop. But now, I see I was right all along! He doesn’t deserve Leanne!”

When they got back to Golden Grove Manors, Leanne had just woken up from a nap.

Selina was still going on about it, and Joy barely managed to stop her from continuing in front of Leanne.

Leanne, hearing bits of their conversation, turned back to her task after ensuring both her friends were in one piece.

“Don’t bother next time. He’s not as nice as you think,” Leanne finally said.

Curtis, with all his pride, rarely resorted to physical confrontations. But when he did, he didn’t hold back. Leanne knew of at least two incidents. One involved a high school bully who ended up with a ruined lineage, only settled after the Richardson family coughed up a fortune. The other was that Derek found himself amidst shattered glass, an image

Leanne inadvertently witnessed.

“Definitely not going next time,” Joy assured with her lips, “Arguing with him is too draining. I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”

“I’m not really feeling it. You guys go ahead,” Leanne declined.

“Don’t think I don’t know your game. You’re trying to diet by making me fat,” Joy accused, half-joking, “If I’m packing on the pounds, no one’s getting away with staying thin!”

Selina joined in on the mischief, “If you’re not eating, either am I.”

Leanne sighed, defeated.

She ended up being dragged out by her friends who were determined to whet her appetite.

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Joy, despite her complaints, treated them to a lavish buffet, costing her month-salary.

Watching her friends enjoy their meal, Leanne found herself digging in more than she expected.

After dinner, they hit a karaoke bar, where Selina and Joy’s off-key singing forced Leanne to join in, “How long will I love you~~~”

When they finally left, Leanne’s head was pounding, but the buzzing vibe had somehow livened up her dull feelings.

Hungry again, Joy suggested they hit up a street food vendor for some grilled delights and beer, the chill of the night contrasting with the warmth of the grill and the bustling crowd.

It was almost 2 am by the time they returned home.

Though not drunk, Leanne felt light-hearted, waving goodbye to her friends as she got off

the car.

Walking up to her apartment, she paused, noticing a figure sitting by her doorstep.

It was Curtis, who couldn’t recall how long he had been waiting.

He had knocked for ages, until the neighbor’s kid informed him that Leanne and her friends were out.

At first, he was super eager to see her, but as time went on, he cooled down and became

more patient.

He owed Leanne thousands of nights of waiting. Sitting here was the least he could do.

The early morning chill bit through his uncoated form, his suit damp and clinging like a

second skin.

The silence of dawn amplified every sound, including his shallow breaths and the approaching footsteps of the person he longed to see.

From a distance, then suddenly near, the footsteps halted.

Turning his head slightly, he saw her. Leanne stood a few steps away, her eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and disbelief.

Seeing Curtis in such a disheveled state, Leanne almost wondered if Joy and Selina had the nerve to rough him up.

Typically, he was the epitome of neatness, always finding a way to sit comfortably even when dropping off breakfast. Yet now, he sat on the ground, his suit crumpled and stained as though he’d taken a tumble through a dumpster. His shirt cuffs bore mottled, unclear red stains like poorly washed blood. And his jacket appeared damp, despite the absence of rain.

His hair, usually well-kept, was a mess, strands falling over his forehead as he leaned

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ágainst the wall, a transparent bag of what seemed like medication in his grip.. Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Are you hurt?” Leanne had to ask.

Curtis wanted to lie, to have her worry over him, if only for a fleeting moment.

“No,” his voice came out rough, “It’s someone else’s blood.”

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