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

She was facing away from the door, but at the sound of footsteps, she sprang up to kneel, quickly sliding the cushion under her knees back beneath the table and picking up a pen to pretend she was diligently copying something.

The table was a mess, covered in papers, which were punishment assignments from Hamilton.

After scribbling a few words, she glanced back and saw it was Phillip. "Oh, it's you."

Dropping the pen, she pulled the cushion out again and sat cross-legged, lazily grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and peeling it.

"What brings you here?" Tina asked.

"Just passing through on a business trip. I thought I should drop by for Christmas," Phillip answered briefly.

"Got any gifts for me?" Tina asked.

Having handed all his gifts to the kids, Phillip said, "Next time."

Tina didn't press on when his 'next time' would be. She wasn't really after the gift.

She bit into the apple, wincing at the sourness.

"Are you cold?" Phillip noticed her red fingers.

were ice-cold. Her knees would

to copy texts, each sheet secretly embedding "Hamilton is a complete ass" between the

leather gloves and left them on

mid-bite. He

the cobblestone path, Phillip saw Tina watching him from the window. The rustic chapel, covered

locked eyes

you looking

table, some flying

the papers scattered in the snow, Phillip helped gather them and

name was

stumbled at the doorstep,

her shoe flying

cold snow on

she hopped over. S

the paper, her face briefly betrayed her

the papers back, trying to play it off. "My

fall for you if I

Write