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

Chapter 220

So, Leanne found herself silently cursing Curtis once again in her mind.

Phillip had just made his way over to her when something seemed to click. “Oh, right, it’s your birthday today. I’ve already got your gift, just been too swamped to give it to you.”

“It’s okay,” Leanne quickly replied.

With all the things he was busy with daily, any of those surely mattered more than her own birthday.

“Curtis used to remind me every year, but he didn’t this year, and I almost forgot.” Phillip mentioned casually, as if it was an afterthought. “He’s always been more attentive than me, never forgot to get you a cake every single year.”

Leanne paused.

Curtis had mentioned before that he was the one buying the birthday cakes when they were kids. At the time, she was too upset to believe him.

“Why didn’t he just give it to me himself?”

Phillip chuckled, “The day he wanted to, you were mad at him and wouldn’t open the door. He had no choice but to ask me to help give it to you.”

Mad? Why was she mad? Leanne tried to recall.

year with the Richardson family and

over to exchange Christmas’ greetings. As an adopted daughter, she didn’t attract much attention, and when it came time to Christmas gifts, only the Richardsons were considered.

greet each guest, and then get

nature, she just wanted to get through the Christmas’ greetings and be alone.

eyebrow and said in front of everyone, “Come here. Call me ‘big bro’, and I’ll

eyes

also turned uncomfortable. Some things are better left unspoken, but once pointed out, it

young and sensitive Leanne, who felt out of place, that

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Chapter 220

she hid in her room. When Curtis knocked, she

she heard Phillip’s voice that she

subtle yet bold way of pointing out the adults’ hypocrisy and opportunism, and publicly declaring that,

whenever guests came over for Christmas’

elders were already waiting in

had a chance to greet them, she caught sight of

stairs.

today, dressed casually in a light grey-blue knit sweater and beige lounge pants, looking like he’d just woken up, with his hair slightly tousled over his forehead, exuding an air