Sabrina complied, but Nelson didn't let go of her immediately. He just smiled at her.
She knew he couldn't be trusted.
Still smiling, Nelson narrowed his eyes and nibbled on her ear. "Are you so afraid of Gerald knowing that you're my wife?"
As Gerald pushed open the door, Nelson leisurely let go of his hand.
Sabrina crouched beside the kitchen island.
"Nelson, where's Sabrina?"
Nelson lowered his gaze and looked at her meaningfully. "She's here."
Feeling Sabrina tug at his pant leg, he changed the subject. "She accidentally spilled the fruit platter. She's cleaning up."
With a sigh of relief, Sabrina calmed her emotions and smoothed her hair.
Just then, Gerald approached and squatted down. "Let me clean up. It's hard for you to do it with your injured hand."
Nelson glanced at them both. He seemed unnecessary at that moment. He shouldn't have helped her just now.
Nelson returned to his seat, watching Gerald's attentive behavior. He suddenly wondered if this was the same man who changed girlfriends every week.
After watching them for some time, he found the situation becoming dull.
"You take care of your sweetheart. I'll be leaving now," Nelson said. His gaze lingered on Sabrina for a while before he left.
As Sabrina looked at his figure from behind, her mood soured.
He was really something, playing with her one moment and then acting indifferent the next.
It seemed he saw her as nothing more than a toy. He teased her when he felt like it, but when he grew tired or bored, he cast her aside.
As the door closed behind him, Sabrina's chest tightened.
She absentmindedly sipped on her chicken soup before saying, "Gerald, can we not meet for a while?"
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