Chapter 260: Chapter 270: Feelings Fade After Marriage, Fading at the Speed of Light

Mortimer Quincy had already paid the bill, using the excuse of going to the restroom. When Robin Roland found out, she insisted on giving them money. In the end, Holly Winslow just had Aunt Roland treat them to bubble tea instead.

Yara Nolan bought four cups. Robin Roland held one and said, "I don’t drink this stuff. Here, Holly, you take another one."

Holly Winslow smiled and gently pushed it back into her hands, whispering, "Aunt Roland, this is from Young Yancy. You should drink it."

Hearing this, Robin Roland glanced at Yara Nolan and suddenly broke into a kind smile.

Watching the pair’s figures recede into the distance, a flash of envy crossed Holly Winslow’s eyes. She quickly linked her arm with Mortimer Quincy’s. "Honey, let’s go home too."

Mortimer Quincy studied her for a moment. Though she was smiling, her eyes glistened under the lights.

’My wife is feeling envious about other people’s mothers again.’

He wrapped his long arm around her, pulling her into his embrace. "Honey, let’s play a poetry chain game. If you win, I’ll owe you a barbecue skewer. If you lose, you let me give you a kiss."

Holly Winslow: "..."

"Shameless."

"When will you, who journey west, return?"

"The perilous path of jagged peaks cannot be scaled."

"That’s one skewer."

"A light brush, a slow twist, a sweep and then a pluck."

"First ’The Rainbow,’ and then ’The Six.’"

"That’s two skewers."

"I ride my swift steed, galloping far and wide."

"Mmph..."

Holly Winslow’s eyes flew open. She looked at him and pouted in dissatisfaction. "I was still thinking."

"Oh, I thought you didn’t know the answer, honey," Mortimer Quincy said with an innocent shrug.

Holly Winslow: "..."

She thought for a long time but still couldn’t recall the next line. "..."

"Give me a hint."

Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow. "Who am I to you?"

"You’re a devil!"

Holly repeated "husband" in her mind. ’Husband...’ The word suddenly sparked her memory, and she blurted out, "Come, and I shall be your guide!"

...

It was already past 8:40 PM when they got home. Holly Winslow sat cross-legged on the sofa and called her father. "Dad, have you eaten dinner?"

"I have."

Wyatt Winslow looked away from his computer, then took off his glasses to listen to her attentively.

Holly didn’t believe him. She huffed. "Dad, you haven’t really eaten, have you? Are you just saying that for my sake?"

"I did. I had beef noodles out," Wyatt Winslow replied, his deep voice sounding a little stern.

That was just how Wyatt Winslow sounded when he was being serious. Holly couldn’t help but smile. She shook her head. "Alright, I believe you, Dad."

Then she brought up Yara Nolan. "Dad, isn’t your factory hiring a planner? I suggested Aunt Roland’s son come for an interview. You can see if he’s a good fit then. It’s no problem if he isn’t."

Holly Winslow didn’t suggest just giving Yara Nolan the job, as that would put both him and her father, Wyatt, in an awkward position.

Yara Nolan had his own principles; if she had offered him the job outright, he would have refused.

And Wyatt Winslow genuinely needed a planner, so hiring someone unsuitable would just create more trouble.

Wyatt Winslow agreed without hesitation. "Have him come in for an interview."

The line went quiet for a second or two before he spoke again. "Have you bought your plane tickets? I hear they’re hard to come by."

Holly knew he was really asking when she was coming home. A smile touched her lips. "We didn’t buy any. Mortimer is driving. We’ll set off early tomorrow morning and should get there around five or six in the evening."

"Alright. Drive safely."

After hanging up, Wyatt Winslow grabbed his keys and headed out. It was only when he reached the supermarket that he found it was already closed.

It was past nine o’clock.

He pressed his lips together and turned to head back home.

Early the next morning, just as the wet market was opening up around seven or eight, Wyatt Winslow, dressed in casual clothes, weaved through the bustling crowd to buy groceries. His hands were already full of bags.

He scanned the only seafood stall in the county market; there were no manila clams. "You’re out of clams?"

The vendor chuckled. "Just sold out. I just called my supplier to send more over. They’ll probably get here around three this afternoon."

He then explained, "It’s summer vacation, you know? The kids love them, so lots of people are buying. They’re often gone before eight in the morning."

Wyatt Winslow pursed his lips. "Could you set aside five pounds for me for today?"

Why turn down business when it comes knocking? The vendor naturally nodded. "Sure, but I’ll need a 20-yuan deposit. If you don’t pick them up, they won’t be fresh by tonight, and they’ll be hard for me to sell tomorrow morning."

Wyatt Winslow handed over the 20 yuan without hesitation. "Thank you. I’ll be here at four o’clock to pick them up."

"Great, I’ll hold them for you. Tell you what, leave me your phone number, and I’ll give you a call when they come in." The vendor jotted down his name and number. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Wyatt Winslow entered his residential complex, his arms full of groceries. The elderly security guard saw him and called out with a friendly smile, "Wyatt! That’s a lot of groceries. Is Holly coming home?"

"Yes, she’ll be here this afternoon," Wyatt Winslow said with a nod.

"No wonder you bought so much," the guard teased kindly, then added with genuine concern, "You need to remember to buy food and cook for yourself even when you’re alone."

Wyatt Winslow grunted in acknowledgment and walked into the complex.

Two women from the second and fourth floors, heading out to do their own shopping, saw Wyatt Winslow with his bags. The one in a white, peony-print dress smiled and called out, "Holly’s dad! That’s a lot of groceries. Is Holly coming home?"

Wyatt Winslow, who was never one for small talk with women, just gave a simple grunt of affirmation.

"I figured as much."

The woman who had spoken first said with an envious smile, "You’re a lucky man, Holly’s dad. Holly is so accomplished, and her boyfriend is, too. They don’t give you a thing to worry about."

The woman beside her chimed in, her brow furrowing just thinking about her own child. "Mine is a real handful. The moment she gets home, she’s glued to her phone. Holly’s dad, when Holly gets back, could you ask her to give our Miaomiao a few pointers?"

Wyatt Winslow pursed his lips. "We’ll see when Holly gets back."

The woman nodded with a wide smile.

Wyatt Winslow gave a slight nod and continued on his way with the groceries.

Once he was out of earshot, the two women started to gossip. "It’s been so many years since the divorce, and he still hasn’t found another woman. It’s not easy for a single man to raise a daughter."

"Well, his daughter really did him proud. She got into a top university and even ended up with a son from the Quincy Family. She’s miles better than that Wen family’s daughter."

"That’s for sure. I have to sigh every time I see that Wen girl. She’s in high school and her hair is dyed some tacky shade of blonde. Her grades are always rock bottom, and her mom is constantly showering the teachers with gifts. It’s just shameless, I’m telling you."

"I know, right? Thank goodness she’s not my daughter, or I’d die from the frustration. Come on, let’s go buy our groceries before all the good stuff is gone."

"Then let’s hurry. My daughter told me she wants shrimp with dipping sauce today. These kids are all little tyrants we have to serve."

...

Around five or six that evening, Holly Winslow unlocked the door and opened it. She handed a pair of slippers to Yara Nolan and said in a gentle voice, "Come on in, Young Yancy."

"Thank you, Ms. Summers," Yara Nolan said.

"You’re welcome." Holly turned and handed Mortimer Quincy a pair of slippers. "Here."

Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow at the obvious difference in treatment. She used five words for the other guy, and only one for him.

’So this is how feelings "fade" after marriage. Fading at the speed of light, no less.’

He asked plaintively, "Honey, who am I?"

"You’re Pigsy."

Holly shot him a sidelong, mischievous smile. Ignoring whatever new fit her flamboyant Mortimer was throwing, she slipped off her shoes and went inside. The air was filled with the rich aroma of stewed pork ribs. "Dad?"

She went into the kitchen but found no one there. A pot of pork ribs was simmering over the lowest possible heat on the stove. She lifted the lid to check the water level. There was still plenty, so it must have just started cooking.

She turned the heat up a bit.

She checked the bedroom next—also empty. Just as she was pulling out her phone to call Wyatt Winslow, his voice came from the entryway. "Holly."

The door opened, and Wyatt Winslow walked in, carrying groceries.

Seeing the group in the living room, his expression visibly softened. "Things on the table."