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

It was such a distant detail that it was barely within Curtis’ memory.

“Do you make these two dishes a lot?” he asked.

Laura looked sheepish as she murmured, “Well…”

“No wonder she’s getting skinnier every year.” Curtis said icily.

He was the kind of guy who wore a smile like an easy garment, exuding a carefree charm that led people to think he was approachable, a real easy-going fella.

But when the smile faded, an innate and indifferent vibe emanated from him, striking a chord of intimidation.

“She’s picky and won’t touch eggplants or lettuce. Didn’t you know that?” Curtis pressed.

“I thought you liked them…”

“How often am I home to eat, huh?”

His casual retort carried an undercurrent of icy pressure that hit you head-on.

Laura was startled, fiddling with her hands, her voice dropping to a whisper, “So, should I not make it anymore?”

Curtis didn’t answer and meant to put out his cigarette but remembered there was no ashtray in the house.

Stubbing out the cigarette on the eggplant dish, he left it there, got up, and headed upstairs.

The master bedroom on the second floor was a grand suite, a living area greeting you at the entrance. Leanne was perched on a grape-purple velvet sofa, her head tilted back against the cushion, her gaze vacant.

She had been waiting a while before she heard footsteps ascending.

When Curtis entered, his eyes fell on her.

Leanne’s neck was exposed under the clear light, her skin smooth and delicate, resembling flawless marble complemented by the emerald hue of her jade pendant.

Curtis still remembered the delicate softness when he touched her skin.

Leanne, who had been staring blankly at the light, winced slightly from the brightness and took a few seconds to register Curtis’ presence. Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Regaining composure, she sat up straight as Curtis’ attention shifted away from her, indifferent.

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“You…” Just as Leanne was about to broach an important topic, Curtis’ attention got caught by the double bed behind her.

“What did you hide under the blanket?” he asked.

“Nothing…” Instinctively, Leanne turned to look as well.

But indeed, there was a noticeable bulge in the neatly spread blanket, something that wasn’t there when she changed clothes after coming home. She hadn’t paid any attention

to the room since.

Curtis walked over and flipped back the blanket. To his surprise, he found a bunch of colorful little kittens, all curled up and fast asleep.

Leanne was clueless about when the cat had stealthily hidden her litter in her bed.

She was momentarily stunned, then amused and baffled.

The door to the downstairs room was locked, only accessible from the outside with a key. How had the mother cat managed to break out?

Curtis furrowed his brow immediately, dropping the blanket and stepping back, his distaste clear as day.

Leanne quickly stood up and approached, fearing he might throw the kittens out the window in a fit of rage.

Curtis’ voice was strained with patience, “Leanne, even if you can’t stand me and want to get rid of me, you could at least be a bit more subtle about it.”

Leanne was speechless. How could these tiny and stumbling kittens be lethal to him? Did they overwhelm him with cuteness?

“Could these kittens kill you? You’re a bit fragile, don’t you think?”

“Fragile?” Curtis almost laughed but was interrupted by a sudden sneeze.

He quickly backed away again, covering his nose, but couldn’t stop the barrage of sneezes that followed.

Leanne realized, “Are you allergic to cat hair?”

Curtis snorted, “You’re just figuring that out now?”

“You never said, how was I supposed to know.” There was a slight hint of guilt in her voice, “Believe it or not, it wasn’t me who hid them here.”

“If not you, then who? Me?”

Leanne couldn’t explain how the mother cat had managed an escape, daringly and meticulously relocating her kittens to the bedroom, nestled under the blanket, in a bold attempt to deliver a lethal blow to Curtis.

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