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?"

bed, watching the dense and cotton-like clouds, with

vast expanse of the sunrise over the

behind, kissing the back of

turned, responding earnestly, "Same to

messages from Joy and Selina. Both she and Curtis had turned off their phones,

they had vanished from the face of the Earth, with

reach them, including

they've run into

when a heavy snowstorm had trapped Leanne with Curtis in Northwood,

passed, initial envy turned into loneliness and

if

one

with logic, "With

per capita or not, how

richer than

and

captivate anyone

Iceland."

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