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

Chapter 11

Leanne was baffled by the sudden attention thrust upon her, like being singled out by a teacher during class, with all eyes fixated on her, particularly being urged to lock eyes with Curtis.

Eye contact? Serious? In front of a bunch of elders, no less.

And Mary had instigated this nonsense. She had no choice but to comply, biting her lip and turning her head his way.

But she still didn’t want to look at Curtis, fixating instead on the dark pattern of his tie.

Curtis lowered his eyes to her, while Leanne’s expression was tight, stubborn as a mule, staring at his chest but avoiding his gaze.

Looking rather gloomy at the scene, Mary asked, “Anne, why won’t you look into his eyes?” Leanne sighed internally, her gaze reluctantly lifting to meet Curtis’ downturned eyes.

Their gazes locked, unobstructed, at an intimate distance.

Curtis watched her silently, his expression unusually earnest.

Leanne’s eyes were stunning, akin to two shimmering pearls, glowing with a serene light, radiating a calm strength.

When she smiled, her eyes sparkled brilliantly as if the entire universe’s stars were within

them.

Looking directly into someone’s eyes was a vulnerable act, magnetic fields intertwined, tendrils pulled, sparking endless chemical reactions every second.

as if the

at that moment.

mattered but the person before

a subtle ripple began to stir

were watching, and Leanne

counting down the seconds, eager to endure this minute and

with it.

into a more pronounced smile, his breath brushing

laughing at?” she asked, bewildered.

feel like laughing, I laugh,” Curtis replied, unable

mirth looking at

spread out, he is because you have a funny

What the hell?

want to entertain him, but their steady gaze made

of cheese stretching, sticky and tender, suggesting gentleness as if enveloped

causing her long eyelashes to

she knew those eyes that gazed at her with such depth were equally

he could look at a dog

was there witnessing his son and former daughter-in-law engage in

an affectionate staring contest, reflect some bizarre

his throat, ready to suggest they stop and join dinner, but Mary

it down! Don’t