Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again-Chapter 949: Fear of One’s Wife

When making jam, Ann Vaughn suddenly thought of the method for making cherry brew. Her tools were at hand, so she tried it out, and it looked pretty good.

"But Mommy, Kenny is a child and can’t drink alcohol."

"No worries, Kenny can have this." Ann Vaughn scooped a big spoonful of jam and spread it on the bread in Little Dumpling’s hand. "Try and see what it tastes like."

The brightly colored jam spread on the bread, giving off a sweet and enticing aroma, making it a pleasure to smell.

But Little Dumpling didn’t eat it; instead, he held it up to Ann Vaughn’s mouth and said in a soft voice, "Mommy, you eat first."

Ann Vaughn felt warmth in her heart, feeling it sweeten even before she tasted it.

She took a small bite from the edge, "Mommy ate it."

Only then did Little Dumpling take a big bite of the bread, chewing and tasting it seriously. His eyes lit up, "Sweet but not cloying, delicate texture, but very layered!"

However...

"Is Mommy’s hand okay?" Little Dumpling looked worriedly at Ann Vaughn’s right hand.

"Mommy’s hand doesn’t hurt anymore." Ann Vaughn raised her right hand to show him, "And I’ve been exercising my left hand recently, so I can do some things even without using my right hand."

It’s just a bit difficult since she’s used to using her right hand for over twenty years.

Seeing her hand was neither red nor swollen, only a bit limp, Little Dumpling finally felt somewhat assured, "If your hand feels unwell, you must tell me immediately, okay?"

Uncle Silas Lowell said that if Mommy’s hand injury isn’t getting better, it’s not too bad, but if it gets worse... that would be trouble.

Ann Vaughn nodded, "Don’t worry, Mommy knows her limits."

"But Mommy, what is that?" Little Dumpling pointed to a small jar next to the glass bottle.

"That’s herbal liquor. Before, Sherry said her knees hurt at night and she tends to sweat easily. Mommy read in a medicine book that this kind of liquor can cure those issues, so I tried making some."

"Mommy, you’re so kind!"

Ann Vaughn chuckled, "Not as sweet as your little mouth. Go brush your teeth after eating, there’s quite a bit of sugar in that jam."

Little Dumpling nodded obediently, finished his jam-filled bread, and ran off to brush his teeth.

After he left, Ann Vaughn suddenly realized, "Weird, why did I say that so smoothly..."

The sound from the entrance interrupted Ann Vaughn’s thoughts.

She went out to see, and there came Cyrus Hawthorne, carrying a chill with him, with some raindrops lingering on his coat that he casually brushed off.

His sculpted features exuded a coldness that kept others at a distance.

His peripheral vision unintentionally caught a glimpse of Ann Vaughn, causing Cyrus Hawthorne to pause, the chill around him easing considerably.

"Why aren’t you asleep yet?" His voice was warm and mellow, as usual.

Ann Vaughn snapped back to reality and handed him a handkerchief. "I was just about to... You reminded me to watch the weather today, but you forgot it yourself? Didn’t you bring an umbrella?"

Listening to her soft complaint, Cyrus Hawthorne silently chuckled, "Yes, it wasn’t convenient to use an umbrella there."

"Where can’t you use an umbrella..." Ann Vaughn mumbled, seeing that he wanted to take off his coat, and without free hands, she had to use the handkerchief to wipe the droplets off his face.

But while wiping, Ann Vaughn looked up to find Cyrus Hawthorne staring at her, directly, without any concealment.

Like an unfathomable vortex, intimidating to explore.

Ann Vaughn’s fingertips curled, and an indescribable emotion swept through her heart, so she withdrew her hand.

"... What are you looking at?"

Cyrus Hawthorne lazily mumbled, his narrowed eyes hinting at a smile, "Looking at whose girlfriend is so pretty."

Whose girl...

Ann Vaughn’s face heated suddenly, as if his gaze was burning inch by inch; she subconsciously opened her mouth to refute him.

"Who, who is your girlfriend? And it might not be yours anyway!"

"Oh? How do you know she won’t be mine?" Cyrus Hawthorne casually hung his coat aside and walked two steps closer to Ann Vaughn, "Did she tell you that?"

His question nearly made Ann Vaughn think she was having an identity crisis, "She... of course, she didn’t say that..."

"Then what did she say? Hmm?" While speaking, Cyrus Hawthorne was somehow beside Ann Vaughn, his breath brushing past her ear, a subtle invasion all around her.

"She she she..." Ann Vaughn’s nape tingled, and she pushed him away, stepping back several paces, "She told you to stay put and stop flirting!!"

Cyrus Hawthorne’s lips curved slightly, "Alright."

Ann Vaughn eyed him skeptically, "Agreeing so easily?"

"Yes, after all, I’m afraid of the wife."

"..."

Before meeting James Vaughn, Ann Vaughn had always had the upper hand in conversations.

But she never imagined she’d be outwitted by him repeatedly today, unable to even find words to retort.

"... I’m going to take a shower." With that, Ann Vaughn dashed up the stairs.

"Annie," Cyrus Hawthorne called after her, "come to my room later."

Ann Vaughn stopped in her tracks immediately, her eyes wide with shock as she looked back at him, clutching her collar tightly with both hands, asking with flushed cheeks:

"S-S-So soon?"

Is it progressing too fast? Just confirmed their relationship and—?

She wasn’t mentally prepared!!

Seeing Ann Vaughn’s blushing face, Cyrus Hawthorne’s narrow eyes glinted with a smile, but he didn’t explain, his deep voice saying, "You can take your time, I’m not in a rush."

Half an hour later, Ann Vaughn finished her shower at record speed, put on a coat over her pajamas, and went to the master bedroom with trepidation.

Cyrus Hawthorne had also just finished showering, with a slight dampness and a faint scent of body wash lingering in the air, particularly pleasant.

But thinking about why he called her over, Ann Vaughn couldn’t calmly meet his eyes.

"Why are you looking down?" Cyrus Hawthorne asked with amusement.

"Your room’s floor is quite pretty, its patterns are unique, I haven’t seen them before, just curious to look more." Ann Vaughn casually found an excuse, trying to brush it off.

"The floor in your room is the same as here. Besides, how can we start the main topic if you don’t look up?"

"..."

Ann Vaughn was silent for a moment, biting her lip, then somewhat resignedly lifted her head and said to Cyrus Hawthorne, "Don’t you think we’re moving too fast?"

Cyrus Hawthorne slightly raised an eyebrow, deliberately asking her, "Does this seem fast?"

"You—" Ann Vaughn’s face blushed as if bleeding, looking at him with disdain.

"How can you have nothing but those thoughts in your head? Can’t you think of something else? Like purely watching the stars and moon together?"