Chapter 3

‘Jewelry?’ I frowned slightly and raised my voice to Bryant, who had just entered the bathroom. “Bryant, Margaret is here. I’m going down to see her.”

Almost instantly, Bryant emerged, his expression colder than I had ever seen before..

“I’ll handle it. You don’t need to worry about it. Go freshen up.” Bryant, always composed and reserved before me, spoke with a hint of unspoken emotion, sounding irritated and anxious.

A strange feeling arose within me. “I’ve freshened up. Remember? I even squeezed the toothpaste out for you.”

“Okay then. Let’s go down together. We shouldn’t keep our guest waiting.” Bryant said.

I grabbed his hand, and we made our way downstairs.

The staircase spiraled elegantly, and halfway down, we could see Margaret sitting gracefully on the sofa in her simple white dress.

She looked up at the sound of our footsteps, her smile serene. When her gaze fell on Bryant and me holding hands, her cup trembled slightly, spilling a few drops.

It must have been a bit hot, and she cried out softly in her flurry, “Ah…”

Bryant quickly withdrew his hand and rushed down the stairs, taking the cup from her with a mix of panic and haste. “How can you be so careless? Can’t even hold a cup properly?”.

stern and harsh, leaving no room for argument. He then grabbed Margaret’s hand

helpless, Margaret tried to pull her hand back. “I’m fine. You’re making a big deal

if not treated properly, you know?” Bryant scolded

on the stairs, dazed, watching the scene unfold, my mind

first married, I learned Bryant had a sensitive stomach and began to cook. Even though we had Emma, her dishes didn’t quite

with him.

I often cut or burnt myself. One time, I accidentally tipped over a pot, and the splashing

always, and said gently, “Are you okay? You go and take care of

acted gentle and caring yet so detached.

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10:33

Chapter 3

countless diary entries about him, marrying him was more than enough

interrupted, “It was lemonade that I got for Miss Margaret.”

blurred, and my heart

his concern, he failed to notice whether the liquid was hot or

took a deep breath and stepped down the stairs, my voice tinged with sarcasm. “Honey, Emma got Margaret some lemonade. It’s cold. It won’t burn. Maybe you should worry if she might get frostbite instead?”

avoiding my gaze, and scolded Margaret, “Crying out

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