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

Curtis just laughed it off, "You pack a punch like you were raised with your bestie in a wild gang or something."

Leanne was speechless.

As the car pulled up to the airport, the first light of dawn cast a golden hue over the parked G650 private jet.

Curtis pulled out a pair of spare flip-flops from the car, holding Leanne's ankle gently as he helped her slip them on.

Stepping out of the car, she gazed out at the vast and empty airport, her dark hair dancing wildly in the morning breeze.

Wrapped in a khaki cashmere throw, the hem of her silk dress and a glimpse of her delicate, pale calf peeking out beneath, she stood there in her slippers, looking like she had just woken up. Curtis held her hand as they ascended the escalator.

The flight attendant on board had already prepared the lounge area, adjusting the air conditioning to a comfortable temperature, with eye masks and earplugs ready for their use.

Before takeoff, Leanne messaged Joy and Selina to let them know.

By the time a sleep-deprived Joy checked her phone. The private jet had already left the country.

"Wait, I just fell asleep. Now have you vanished?"

"Couldn't Curtis spare a seat for me on his private jet?"

clouds, Leanne curled up in the comfy bed, watching the dense and cotton-like clouds,

sunrise over

behind, kissing the back

responding earnestly, "Same

Selina. Both she and Curtis had turned

as if they had vanished from the face of the Earth, with no one back home

reach

you think they've run into

Curtis in Northwood, Joy had never

turned into loneliness and

in Iceland. What if they

one of the highest GDPs

with logic,

per capita or

richer than

and

could captivate anyone

Iceland."

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