Nia Mitchell’s small face was bright red, her luminous big eyes blinking as she looked at Maxwell Peary.
Had she really done so many embarrassing things last night?
"I think I’m late for work."
The words that were on the tip of her tongue took a different turn. Nia Mitchell was so embarrassed she wanted to bite off her own tongue.
"Nia Mitchell, don’t you think you should explain the matter of divorce?"
Maxwell Peary’s face darkened. Thinking about last night’s situation filled him with simmering anger.
When he had carried her back last night, she had kept twisting and struggling. Not only had it aroused him, but she also kept shouting that she didn’t want a divorce.
The butler and a house full of servants were all watching, making it seem as if he were some heinous villain.
God knew how much he wanted to slap this Rabina Mitchell in his arms a few times, shake her awake, and demand to know what on earth this "divorce" nonsense was all about.
Hearing Maxwell Peary’s words, Nia Mitchell lowered her head. Was she finally going to talk about it?
"But wasn’t that what you said? If your mother doesn’t like me, you’ll get a divorce."
Remembering those words, Nia Mitchell lowered her head, fighting back tears.
It’s not like she liked Maxwell Peary! A divorce was a divorce; she wouldn’t be heartbroken, she wouldn’t be sad, and she certainly wouldn’t feel reluctant.
In this world, no one couldn’t live without someone else. She had already been dumped by Hendry Hampton; being dumped by one more person was no big deal.
"Just because of this?" Maxwell Peary furrowed his eyebrows.
Maxwell Peary found it incredible. Little Rabina Mitchell wanted a divorce just because of this?
He had been annoyed by his mother constantly calling and nagging him, so he’d just wanted to hang up quickly. Besides, he was sure his mother would definitely Rabina Mitchell.
His mother kept complaining that he’d gotten married without telling her, without any discussion. She’d never met the girl, didn’t know her personality, had no idea if they’d get along, and so on...
So, he had simply blurted out, "If you don’t like her, we’ll get a divorce."
That single sentence had successfully stemmed his mother’s overwhelming tide of complaints. So much easier.
Nia Mitchell raised her head, glaring at Maxwell Peary. What does he mean, ’just because of this’?
Don’t make it sound so trivial, okay?
Nia Mitchell instantly sprang from the bed, landing barefoot on the floor, her face etched with reproach.
Seeing her jump off the bed just like that, Maxwell Peary was startled and frowned in displeasure.
He bent down, lifted her back onto the bed, then gently knelt to put her slippers on for her.
"Although the weather is getting warmer, you shouldn’t be standing barefoot on the floor, you know?"
Nia Mitchell pouted and bit her lip.
"Why are you so good to me?"
Nia Mitchell shifted her small feet uncomfortably, looking down at the fluffy pink slippers.
If he kept being , it would only make her more reluctant to divorce him.
"You’re my wife, aren’t you?"
Maxwell Peary replied matter-of-factly. Isn’t that reason enough to explain everything?
Nia Mitchell looked up, her eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment. In an instant, she was lost in his deep gaze.
Sunlight streamed through the swaying curtains, dappling the room with light and shadow, creating an atmosphere of tranquility.
"Stop mentioning divorce in the future." Follow current novᴇls on 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭•𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦•𝘯𝘦𝘵
Maxwell Peary reached out, wrapped an arm around her slender waist, leaned in, and gently kissed her red lips.
Nia Mitchell instinctively tried to struggle, but she was no match for Maxwell Peary’s strength and could only let him hold her.
"Promise me, stop mentioning divorce in the future."
Nia Mitchell frowned, clenched her fists, then abruptly leaned in and bit Maxwell Peary’s lips.
"If you want me to promise you, you have to promise me too. As long as you don’t mention divorce, I won’t either."