Chapter 94: Wife, Are You Still Angry?
Adrian Grant walked to the bedside and looked down at the woman lying on the bed. He paused, then gently placed his large, warm hand on top of her head, his tone gentle and somewhat apologetic:
"Yes, it’s my fault. Please forgive me, okay?"
Caroline Whitman’s eyelashes trembled slightly. ’Should I play along now,’ she wondered, ’and say something like I’m not mad anymore?’
Just as she was about to open her mouth and say, "I forgive you," she saw Adrian Grant’s thin lips part slightly. His low, gentle voice sounded from above her again:
"The baby and I both love you very much."
Caroline Whitman froze for a moment.
’W-w-what did he say?’
’No ad-libbing!’
Even though she knew it was an act for their child’s benefit, her heart still couldn’t help but pound fiercely.
The little guy, however, frowned. He had seen Adrian Grant apologize before, and this attitude clearly wasn’t enough to make his mother happy.
"Daddy, when you apologized before, you always called Mommy ’wife’."
Caroline Whitman: "..."
’Oh, my dear son. You really are my dear, dear son.’
She had been planning to get up and accept Adrian Grant’s "apology" to end this farce quickly, but after hearing her son’s words, Caroline Whitman instantly lost all motivation to move.
’Make Adrian Grant call me ’wife’?’
The vacant look in Caroline Whitman’s eyes sharpened.
Filled with the anticipation of watching a good show, she waited quietly for his reaction.
Adrian Grant saw it all—Caroline Whitman’s expression shifting from shocked and stunned to eagerly anticipating a good show.
The corner of his mouth curved into a faint, teasing smile as he leaned over and sat on the edge of the bed.
This posture, however, made Caroline Whitman inexplicably nervous.
’I suddenly feel like I’m not torturing him, but myself.’
The next second, Adrian Grant reached out, lifted a corner of her blanket, and leaned over to gently pull her from the bed into his arms. His large hand softly stroked her back as he rested his head in the crook of her neck.
Caroline Whitman’s whole body went rigid. Her hands hovered awkwardly in mid-air for a few seconds before finally landing lightly on his back, wrapping around him loosely.
Suddenly, a gentle, intimate voice sounded right next to her ear:
"Wife, are you still angry?"
Her mind went blank with a BUZZ, and her cheeks instantly burned hot.
"N-n-no, I’m not angry anymore." Caroline Whitman almost stuttered.
At that moment, she had only one thought.
’I lost out on this one. I should have recorded that.’
Adrian Grant chuckled softly, his large hand caressing the back of her head. "Really not angry anymore?"
"..."
’Has he gotten addicted to acting?’
"Mhm, I’m really not angry anymore," Caroline Whitman repeated, her chin resting on his shoulder.
"And when you’re not angry anymore, you always call me ’husband,’ isn’t that right, Ryan?" Adrian Grant suddenly glanced at Ryan Grant.
Caroline Whitman: "..."
’So that’s why he was so willing to call me ’wife’,’ she thought. ’He was waiting to spring this on me.’
’Isn’t your need for revenge a little too strong?!’
The little guy blinked, immediately scrambled over on all fours, stood up, and wrapped his two chubby little hands around both of them, playing the peacemaker in his sweet, childish voice:
"That’s right, Mommy! Hurry up and forgive Daddy."
Caroline Whitman opened her mouth, then closed it again.
She pushed Adrian Grant away and shot him a glare, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance.
"Stop teasing Ryan! When was I ever angry?!"
Then, she turned to her son and said, "Your dad’s teasing you. We weren’t fighting. Don’t take it seriously. Okay, hurry up and get ready for the day."
With that, she got out of bed, leaving the big one and the little one staring blankly at each other.
Ryan Grant watched Caroline Whitman’s retreating figure. He then glanced at Adrian Grant, who was calmly picking up his own clothes, before his gaze drifted to the now-closed bedroom door. Smacking his little lips, he turned to Adrian Grant:
"Daddy, why do I get the feeling Mommy is really angry?"
"..."
Adrian Grant looked down, reflecting. ’Did I go too far just now? Did I scare her?’
He didn’t say much, just reached out to help his son put on his shirt. "You can put on the rest yourself."
Ryan Grant obediently complied. "Oh."
After Adrian Grant also left, only Tiny remained in the room.
Slowly, he continued pulling on his pants.
...
Caroline Whitman finished washing up. Only after the blush had faded from her face did she walk out of the bathroom and head downstairs.
Her son and Adrian Grant were already sitting at the dining table, just waiting for her to come down for breakfast.
"Mommy, you take so long to wash up and brush your teeth." After seeing Caroline Whitman sit down at the table, Ryan Grant reached out with a chubby hand, grabbed a piece of bread, and mumbled as he chewed.
’The only reason I was slow was to wait for my face to stop being so red.’
’There was no way I was coming out with a blushing face.’
Caroline Whitman subtly glanced at Adrian Grant and saw him eating with refined manners. She finally let her gaze rest on Tiny.
"If you two are hungry in the morning, just eat first. You don’t have to wait for me."
Ryan Grant swallowed the food in his mouth and was about to say something else, but Caroline Whitman, anticipating this, placed a glass of milk in front of him.
"Don’t talk while you’re eating."
Ryan Grant obediently said, "Oh," and picked up his milk for a sip.
After what she’d just said, the three of them didn’t speak another word and finished their breakfast in silence.
After breakfast, Caroline Whitman went back to her room to change. As she passed the walk-in closet, she happened to catch Adrian Grant taking off his pajamas, revealing a broad back and narrow waist with sleek lines.
She stole a couple of extra glances before silently looking away.
Before long, Adrian Grant emerged, fully dressed.
Caroline Whitman had also changed in the bathroom, and they met head-on.
"You weren’t really angry when we woke up, were you?" Adrian Grant suddenly asked.
Caroline Whitman feigned ignorance. "What would I be angry about?"
Adrian Grant smiled. "As long as you weren’t angry. I thought I might have offended you."
"..."
Looking at Adrian Grant, who was presenting such a refined and gentle appearance, Caroline Whitman began to re-evaluate him.
During her year as an exchange student, she hadn’t interacted much with Adrian Grant. It was only this year, because of their son, that the two of them developed a deeper bond.
This meant her overall impression of Adrian Grant was still stuck on that cold, unapproachable image.
Her recent infatuation with his good looks had almost made her forget that, in the novel’s plot she now remembered, the outwardly refined and gentle Adrian Grant was actually a pervert.
"..."
’So, just what kind of pervert is he?’
’That comment about me calling him ’husband’ was definitely on purpose, wasn’t it.’
At this thought, Caroline Whitman shot him a sideways glance, her tone laced with a bit of sarcasm. "I’m surprised you even know the meaning of the word ’offend’."
Adrian Grant unhurriedly fastened the clasp of his watch, rotated his wrist, and said with a smile, "I thought you wanted to hear it. After all, you didn’t say anything right away."
"..."
Caroline Whitman was momentarily speechless.
’So he really did see through me.’
She turned and walked out of the room, saying over her shoulder, "Well, who told you to suddenly say something that made me ’angry’? Why else would our son have reacted like that?"
Adrian Grant followed behind her. "Mm, my original intention was to get him used to us sleeping separately. I just didn’t expect it to provoke such a reaction from him."
"..."
Caroline Whitman said no more.
Downstairs, Ryan Grant was already waiting for them with his little backpack on.
Today was the seventh day of their son’s vacation.
Caroline Whitman’s vacation ended tomorrow.
As for Adrian Grant, he also had to go back to work tomorrow.
Ryan Grant wasn’t too sad to learn their vacations were almost over, because they had promised him that today, he could decide wherever he wanted to go, whatever he wanted to play, and whatever he wanted to eat—aside from things he was too young for.
And so, today, they came to Serene Garden Villa.
The last time Franklin Whitman had brought him here, the villa had introduced new desserts. He had never tasted anything like them on his previous visits.
After getting out of the car, Caroline Whitman opened an umbrella. She looked up at the bright, sunny sky, wishing she could be in an air-conditioned room right that instant.
In the past, she would never have gone out in such high heat.