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

Chapter 141

Curtis couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity, but his laughter was as fleeting and thin as a wisp of smoke, never reaching the frosty depths of his eyes before being scattered by the wind.

He and Leanne were like a modern-day War of the Roses. The word “again” was inevitably part of the sentence whenever someone mentioned them.

“We didn’t fight this time,” he said, taking a drag on his cigarette while watching the snowflakes dance beneath the streetlamp’s glow.

Curtis used to despise winter, which was too cold, bad weather, all hassle, and

inconvenient.

But the best times with Leanne were in that one winter season.

They stayed at the Northwood Mansion, no one to disturb them, nothing to trouble their peace. It felt like the whole world consisted only of each other.

Leanne was like ice wrapped in stone, requiring gentle, patient, and persistent warmth.

Once the stone heated, the ice inside melted into a subtle trickle of water first, then slowly into the sweetest honey.

Curtis had tasted that sweetness.

On Christmas Eve, in front of the hospital, even a man like him, often branded as cold-hearted, had stood in the biting winter snow waiting for her..

Leanne ran

flushed, whether from the heat or the

cheers. It was hard to

into his arms, snuggled against him,

heart. That belief lasted until the day he returned to grab his passport – he had planned a surprise honeymoon as

overheard Jennifer talking to a

a real catch,” the woman praised, “beautiful and well-behaved, and she seems so in love with Curtis.

She wanted to marry Phillip not long ago. How much real affection can she have for

“Really? I

soft spot for Phillip. If

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Chapter 141

living room. For Curtis, she never bothered. But she must be

had believed he was the first choice in that

heart turning into ice, cold and painfully sharp at the

sacrifice him. The girl he treasured

women he loved most didn’t love him in

he

of Jennifer’s scale,

only considered when his brother

don’t think she loves me,” Phillip said, “She was drunk that night, crying and asking why you don’t

asking, “Have you ever loved me?” made Curtis’ heart clench, his gaze growing colder by