Hazel Sinclair: !!!
’I slapped him, and Leon Sterling *still* doesn’t hate me? Is this guy a ninja? His tolerance is insane.’
"How is it still zero? Did you make a mistake?" Hazel Sinclair started to suspect the system’s data was inaccurate.
She had done so many things to make Leon Sterling hate her, but in his eyes, none of them were hateful.
"It’s not about what you think, it’s about what I think," Hazel Sinclair retorted, pushing him away and turning to her side. "I’m going to bed. You should get some sleep too."
"We have to move tomorrow."
At that thought, Hazel Sinclair pointed at his nose and said, "You better handle my clothes properly. If they get even a little dirty or damaged, you’re buying me new ones."
"Okay," Leon Sterling replied.
But his gaze remained on her as he pressed, "Do you really have to get a part-time job?"
"Are you ever going to shut up? All you do is ask, ask, ask." Hazel Sinclair was getting annoyed. She kicked his shin and yelled, "Ask me again and you can go sleep on the couch."
Not wanting to sleep on the couch, Leon Sterling finally chose to shut his mouth.
Leon Sterling was a little lost. He leaned back, phone in hand, and messaged his friend.
[Leon Sterling: My wife is insisting on getting a job. Why?]
[Leon Sterling: Is it because I’m not good enough that she’s doing this?]
The other person replied instantly after he sent the message.
[Wyatt Wallace: It’s over, man. Your wife is leaving you.]
That one sentence made Leon Sterling’s heart leap into his throat.
[Leon Sterling: Impossible. My wife just rejected her parents’ request for us to divorce today.]
[Leon Sterling: She loves me so much, there’s no way she’d divorce me. If you don’t know what you’re talking about, then shut up.]
Every word was a denial of his friend’s claim, and at the same time, an affirmation of his own status in Hazel Sinclair’s heart.
But his friend wasn’t about to let him off the hook, pressing on relentlessly.
[Wyatt Wallace: Look, she used to stay home obediently and not cause any trouble. At most, she’d just ask you for some dresses and bags. Now she doesn’t even want bags or dresses, and instead, she’s insisting on getting a job.]
[Wyatt Wallace: Once a woman becomes independent enough to do everything herself, she doesn’t need a man anymore. She can earn her own money, order her own takeout, and solve any problem that comes up. What does she need you for?]
[Wyatt Wallace: Bro, you’re pretty useless, aren’t you? Your wife is already planning to ditch you.]
Leon Sterling’s defenses crumbled. He didn’t even text back. He just flopped onto Hazel and asked, "Hazel, are you planning to leave me?"
More nonsense. Hazel Sinclair shot him a look, impatiently slapped him across the face, and said furiously, "What is wrong with you today?"
"Do you actually *want* to sleep on the couch?"
"You answer me first," Leon Sterling said stubbornly, holding the hand that had just slapped his face.
"Depends on your performance. Acting like this, I really am planning on leaving you." Hazel Sinclair pulled her hand back, tugged the thin blanket over her stomach, and closed her eyes to sleep.
Hearing this, Leon Sterling froze. ’She’s really planning on leaving me?’
[Wyatt Wallace: Bro, if you don’t want her to dump you, you’ve got to work hard to please her.]
[Wyatt Wallace: After all, Miss Sinclair is so beautiful. The second you two divorce, tons of guys will be lining up to swoop in.]
After reading his bro’s words, Leon Sterling clutched his phone. ’I can’t let this go on.’
The men around Hazel Sinclair were always watching her covetously, especially that Luke Lancaster.
’He’s always flirting with my wife on WhatsApp.’
「The next day, Hazel Sinclair woke up.」 She had just sat up when Leon Sterling draped a hot towel over her face.
The warm towel felt very comfortable on her face.
"Breakfast is ready. It’s your favorite—tomato and egg noodles." Leon Sterling’s well-defined hands gently wiped her face with the towel.
Hazel Sinclair, who had still been drowsy, was now wide awake. After wiping her face, Leon Sterling scooped her up from the bed, grabbed her slippers, and carried her toward the bathroom.
Hazel Sinclair was completely baffled by his actions. ’What’s with this guy?’
When they reached the bathroom door, he knelt on one knee and had Hazel Sinclair sit on his thigh. One arm wrapped around her slender waist while the other hand slid a slipper onto her fair, delicate foot.
Hazel Sinclair was even more confused. ’Is he really this bored?’
"What’s... wrong with you?" Hazel Sinclair asked earnestly, touching his forehead.
She touched her own forehead with her other hand. ’No fever.’
"Are you possessed?" Hazel Sinclair quipped, looking at him.
"I’m serving you," Leon Sterling said with utmost seriousness.
"It must be because I haven’t been doing a good enough job. That’s why you’re thinking about working," Leon Sterling said, carrying her over to the sink, setting her down, and handing her a toothbrush.
’What does that have to do with me getting a job?’
Hazel Sinclair thought, but didn’t ask, as she was busy brushing her teeth with an electric toothbrush.
After she brushed her teeth and washed her face, she sat at the dining table, and Leon Sterling picked up a bite of food with his chopsticks, holding it to her mouth.
Hazel Sinclair: ...
’It’s not like I’m disabled. Do I really need someone to personally feed me?’
"I can do it myself," Hazel Sinclair said, holding out her hand to him.
"No need. I’ll do it," Leon Sterling refused.
Hazel Sinclair was speechless. She looked at him and said bluntly, "Are you crazy? My hands aren’t broken. I can use them. I don’t need you to feed me."
"You’re being so neurotic."
After being told off, Leon Sterling lowered his head, not daring to speak.
’Looks like my performance still isn’t good enough.’
After breakfast, the movers arrived, and Leon Sterling went to deal with them.
They handled the heavy items, while Leon Sterling carried two boxes downstairs himself.
Meanwhile, Hazel Sinclair didn’t have to do a thing, just wait on the sofa for them to come back.
Even though there were still many things left to pack, Leon Sterling wouldn’t let her touch a single one.
Downstairs, the moving truck driver saw him carrying the two boxes and couldn’t help but ask, "Is there something valuable in there? You’re carrying them down yourself."
"I can just carry everything down in a bit."
"My wife’s clothes. They can’t be damaged in any way," Leon Sterling said with great seriousness, placing them in the back of the truck.
He had gone out that morning to buy dust covers and large boxes.
After he got back, he had started packing Hazel Sinclair’s clothes, making sure every single piece was properly protected.
Thinking of the exceptionally beautiful woman sitting on the sofa playing on her phone, the moving truck driver chuckled as he loaded things into the truck. "Not bad, kid."
"You’re keeping your wife looking this beautiful."
Leon Sterling felt a swell of pride at hearing his wife praised.
’A wife’s beauty is her husband’s glory.’
"Sigh, but yesterday she was adamant about getting a job, and I couldn’t stop her," Leon Sterling lamented.
"That just means your wife is worried about you," the driver said. "My wife worries about me doing this job, ’cause it’s heavy labor, and I have to climb a lot of stairs."
"She’s afraid I’ll work myself to death."
Hearing the man’s words, Leon Sterling’s eyes lit up. ’So Hazel Sinclair is just worried about me!’