Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back! ( Leanne Castillo ) novel Chapter 302

Curtis grabbed his car keys, hoisted the cat into the passenger seat, and said, "Let's go. I'll drive you two."

Leanne, remembering his previous disdain for the cat, couldn't help but tease, "Are you not worried about it plotting your murder anymore?"

"How many grievances have you scribbled down against me in your world?" Curtis chuckled, unabashed, "You'll be disappointed, though. Before you arrived, we had quite the heart-to-heart and decided to bury the hatchet."

He was shameless to the extreme.

Leanne replied skeptically, "Sure, except you're allergic."

Sneezing and coughing were the least of his worries. A severe reaction could even trigger allergic rhinitis or asthma, and he had broken out in hives before.

She reached out to take the cat, but Curtis, leaning against the car door, blocked her.

"What's the matter, trying to break us up?" he accused with a stern look. "We've bonded, you cold-hearted woman."

Leanne glanced at him expressionlessly and withdrew her hand, "Then you keep it."

Curtis didn’t flinch, “A kitten needs its mom.”

What a nonsense!

Leanne retorted, "You're crazy."

“I’m not even afraid of allergies. What are you scared of?” Curtis closed the door, then opened the passenger side for her, pulling her in.

“Don’t you think you should buy it some stuff? A cab driver won’t accompany you to a pet store.”

"Whatever you want," Leanne gave up struggling and got into the car, “Just don’t come crying to me if you have an allergic reaction.”

The cat, frightened by the car ride, meowed incessantly from its carrier.

Leanne spoke to it softly and patiently.

The cat trusted her, quieting down at the sound of her voice. But as soon as she paused, it started meowing anxiously again.

Leanne had to keep talking to it, responding every time it meowed.

Curtis, in the driver's seat, stayed silent, his expression hidden by a mask. Leanne thought he was focused on driving until a soft chuckle came from beneath his mask.

She looked over.

At a red light, Curtis slowly pressed the brake. Sensing her gaze, he glanced at her with the corner of his eye.

“Why stop chatting?”

Embarrassed by his remark, Leanne felt a bit silly.

“Run out of topics?” Curtis helpfully suggested, “Why not tell it about our wildly complicated love story?”

Leanne was at a loss for words. She turned her face to the window, refusing to engage further.

Inside the pet superstore, they found everything a cat could need. Leanne, busy with work and occasionally on call, bought an automatic feeder, a smart litter box, and other essentials like food and litter.

Curtis, inexplicably leisurely, insisted on accompanying her through the aisles, a veritable minefield of allergens for him even with a mask. Soon enough, his nose began to itch.

The items were plentiful and heavy. Upon arriving at Golden Grove Manors, Mr. Curtis played the porter, lugging everything upstairs.

His unsolicited helpfulness led, predictably, to another allergic reaction.

After Leanne settled the cat and came out of the room, she found him at the sink, washing his hands, his arms flushed red.

At the sight of her, Curtis asked, “Got any cream?”