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

Chapter 180

“Tomorrow?” Curtis’ right hand slipped into his trouser pocket, feigning contemplation, as if he were a man besieged by a thousand duties. “I’ve got business in Manhattan. Last weekend, I postponed a few things just to hang out with you at the Hot Spring Hotel.”

As if he’d done her a favor. It was his idea to go in the first place.

Leanne waited for her Uber outside the hospital, shivering slightly in the brisk chill. Her left hand was tucked into her sleeve for warmth, her other hand gripping her phone, fingers stiff from the biting wind.

“So when will you be back?”

Truth be told, there wasn’t anything in Manhattan that required his urgent presence. An old friend had just celebrated the birth of twins, and he was supposed to go and congratulate him last week. But upon hearing that Leanne was heading to Hot Spring Hotel, he changed his plans on a whim.

The congratulatory gift had already been sent by a proxy. His presence was hardly necessary. After all, those kids weren’t his.

“Hard to say,” Curtis said, pretending to find the question difficult. “If all goes well, I’ll be back the same day. But if not, it could take anywhere from a few days to a year.”

Leanne’s brow furrowed at the mention of a year. She could wait, but the city hall wouldn’t hold off for her.

“What time is your flight? Maybe we could head to city hall early in the morning, get the paperwork done, and then you can…”

cut her off, “Five A.M.”

she got into the car, she couldn’t help but retort, “Is it really necessary to travel at the crack of dawn

glanced at her with a mix of curiosity and disdain, clearly thinking:

flight plans filed in advance. Caleb’s been slacking off, forgot

blamed Caleb for being lazy, Leanne might have

but he never dropped the ball.

lying to

seasoned businessman, was adept at handling someone as innocent yet vigilant as Leanne. “Why don’t you come with me and see for yourself?”

with him,

her energy was focused on staying warm, leaving none for giving Curtis the cold shoulder. His response, so casual it was as though

was, “What’s the rush? City hall

hold up

days, handling work remotely. It was a hassle, but that’s the price of weaving tales. Once

a while,

honestly, one glance was

say that not-so-great genes were dominant. Even a beauty queen with the perfect ratio of features couldn’t