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

Halfway through her meal, Leanne heard the front door open. Curtis had returned.

He had the kind of chiseled features, a roguish charm that more reserved and steady Phillip could never claim. Curtis carried an air of aristocratic nonchalance like a modern-day playboy with a touch of old money.

The temperature had dropped even lower that day, and Curtis had layered a black overcoat over his grey suit, tempering his usual casualness with a dash of mature masculinity.

Leanne was caught off-guard by his sudden return. She was momentarily frozen in place, and by the time she collected herself, Curtis had already stepped inside, nonchalantly tossing his coat over a dining chair’s backrest.

He glanced at the dishes on the table and a half-smile played on his lips. “The grub has gone up a notch with Laura back in the kitchen.”

His comment made Laura beam with pride. “I thought you weren’t coming back for dinner today. Ms. Leanne is nearly finished. I’ll whip up a couple more dishes!”

Leanne understood Laura’s joy all too well. She too had been dazzled by Curtis’ sweet talk in the past, completely disoriented by his charm.

Without mentioning he’d already eaten out, Curtis took his place at the table and picked up

his fork.

Leanne glanced at the cat on her lap, still hidden from Curtis’ view by the table. She pondered whether to pick up the cat and whisk it back to her room out of Curtis’ sight, or to keep it hidden, hoping he

might not notice and make a fuss.

But Curtis had sharp ears and overheard the cat’s purring. He looked up, his eyebrows slightly knit together.

Leanne didn’t get the chance to leave before the cat, having sensed a change in the atmosphere, leapt onto the table, eyeing Curtis curiously yet cautiously.

The smile that had been on Curtis’ lips moments ago disappeared, and his brow furrowed. “Why is that thing still here? I thought I told you to get rid of her.”

Animals were sensitive to human emotions, and the cat shrank back slightly upon his

harsh words.

“Enjoy your meal,” Leanne said quietly, picking up the cat to return it to the other room. She didn’t come back to the dining room, instead grabbing a book and sitting in the living room to wait for him to finish eating.

Curtis, feeling the evening had been soured, watched Laura serve the new dishes. By then, he had already set his fork down.

12:14

“Done eating already?” Laura asked with a hint of concern.

Curtis wiped his mouth with a napkin, his voice laced with implication, “I’ve had my fill of my wife’s vexations.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” Leanne felt unjustly accused. After all, she hadn’t known he would come back unexpectedly.

Curtis chuckled dryly. “So, you’re saying I shouldn’t have come back?”

Leanne didn’t want to argue over such trivial matters. After a few seconds of silence, she set her book down. “Do you have a moment now?”

“No time,” Curtis drawled, “I’m busy digesting the annoyance in my stomach.”

Leanne persisted, “I have something important to discuss with you. You’re always too busy, can we talk now?”

Curtis gave her a long and inscrutable look, then leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, the coldness in his gaze unmistakable.

“Go ahead,” he said.

Leanne glanced at Laura, still standing nearby. “Let’s talk in the room upstairs.”

She rose and headed for the staircase, Curtis watching her slender figure disappear up the spiraling steps.

He pulled out a cigarette from a pack, tapping its end before drawing one out and placing it between his lips. Flicking a lighter, he ignited the tip.

The blue flame briefly illuminated his face as he took a deep drag, then set the lighter down on the table. The curling smoke partly obscured his features, leaving Laura unable to read his expression or the sudden and tense atmosphere that had descended, leaving the hot meal untouched.

Curtis’ gaze swept over the steaming dishes on the table. “Why did you make eggplant and lettuce?”

Laura blinked, a touch of hurt in her voice, “You don’t like them? I thought I was making your favorites.”

Curtis raised an eyebrow. “Since when did I say I liked eggplant?”

“But you praised the eggplant I made last time. And you used to love the pickled lettuce, didn’t you?” Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.