Stanley stared at Joyce wordlessly.

Amusement flashed through his eyes as he watched her concern and panic over his wellbeing.

Joyce was too busy fussing over his swollen, scalded hand to notice his gaze. A chill ran down her spine as she chewed her lip nervously.

I'm doomed. I messed up big time.

Their antagonistic history weighed on her mind. She was always bracing herself for a retaliatory response.

Joyce would not let her guard down over a few days of peace.

Now that I've scalded him, I'm giving him the perfect excuse to explode at me! I bet he'll use this chance to force me to do something. Maybe he'll threaten me to abort my baby or torture me in some way. Damn it! Why did my stupid hands shake? It was just a touch. Why couldn't I put up with it instead of freaking out? None of this would have happened if I didn't pull my hand back.

The thoughts that whirled in Joyce's mind merely heightened her fear, causing her whole body to shake. Tears blurred her vision, and her eyes became red-rimmed at an alarming rate.

Stanley's prolonged silence after her apology sent her anxiety through the roof.

“Mr. Quinn, I—” She raised her head, ready to receive any punishment he had in mind.

Stanley cut in before she could finish her words. “Are you crying?”

His question befuddled Joyce, who stiffened in surprise. Assuming he was disgusted by her tearful appearance, she hastily wiped her tears and shook her head. “No, I'm not crying. I'm just—”

“Are you scared that I'll do something to you?” At the same time, he raised his hand to halt her speech.

Alas, Joyce took his motion as a sign that he was about to strike her. She instinctively flinched and closed her eyes, appearing frightened yet resigned to her fate.

Her behavior caused Stanley's expression to darken instantly. He asked frostily, “What are you doing? Did you think I'd hit you?”

Why would she think that? Does she take me for a man cruel enough to strike a woman?

Joyce slowly opened her eyes at his question. She shot him a fearful gaze and stammered, “A-Aren't you going to hit me?”

Stanley narrowed his gaze, turning furious. “Who told you I would hit you? Why did you automatically jump to that conclusion?”

Finally realizing that he had no intention to hit her, Joyce secretly sighed in relief. She bit her lip and replied timidly, “When you raised your hand, I thought you were going to hit me because I scalded you. That's why—”

“So you thought I would hit you over that?” Stanley's expression looked as sullen as before.
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