All the annoying bits were stripped off, and Tyrone couldn’t wait to get back into the action.
Quintessa closed her eyes, thinking: well, if there’s no avoiding it—this day was bound to come, what’s the point of being so prudish? Just let it happen.
After all, who hasn't seen each other before? Three years ago, they were already intimate.
But as Quintessa had resigned herself to the moment, a sudden knock at the door echoed through the room.
Cecilia’s voice came from outside: “Honey, Ty, can you open the door? I made your favorite dish today. And I’ve warmed it up for you. How about coming out and have some?”
Everything was set, but this sudden interruption caught Tyrone off guard.
His expression at that moment was so remarkable that Quintessa couldn't find the right adjective.
Tyrone’s face darkened terribly—he was all ready to go, and now his own mother showed up!
Is she on a mission to embarrass her son?
Hearing Cecilia’s voice, Quintessa’s eyes lit up, and she immediately saw her chance, blurting out, “Oh, here’s the opportunity. Let your mom see how shameless his own son is.”
Tyrone, with a darkened face, pushed her back, “I told you, if I don’t have you tonight, I swear I’ll take your last name. Now, stay put.”
Quintessa chuckled, “But what about your mom?”
Tyrone shouted back at the door, “Mom, I’m busy now.”
Cecilia persisted, “Son, you’ve been out busy all day. I made this dish especially for you. The least you could do is come out and eat. You haven’t had a meal I’ve cooked in days, and you’re losing weight. It breaks mom’s heart to see you like this.”
Quintessa couldn’t help but laugh, teasingly touching Tyrone’s cheek and mimicking Cecilia, “Dear, eat up. You’re losing weight, it breaks mom’s heart to see you like this.”
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