Chapter 287: Chapter 297: Why Didn’t You Say You Were Pregnant?

She said seriously, "Professor Lynch, they don’t need me."

University students are still students, but they already have some rationality and plans for their future.

My impact on them wouldn’t be significant.

High school and middle school students lack that rationality. You could even say they’re lost and naive. The gap between people really starts to widen during those two stages.

After understanding what she meant, Professor Lynch was taken aback. She clearly hadn’t expected her to say that. She was silent for a few seconds. "The department is still considering you for a graduate school recommendation. I didn’t realize you already had plans. Why don’t you think it over?"

With a small smile, she added, "Is your boyfriend also skipping grad school to go home and be a teacher?"

’That guy, Mortimer Quincy, is going home to inherit a real estate business. He’s going to be one of those cold, domineering CEOs from a novel.’

’Ahem, but not the kind of CEO who can casually whip out hundreds of millions.’

’A few hundred thousand, at most.’

Holly Winslow couldn’t possibly say that out loud. After a moment’s thought, she said, "No, he has other plans for when he goes back home."

...

After the graduate school entrance exam registration on October 15th, the school’s study halls were completely taken over by seniors. Aside from Holly Winslow and Mortimer Quincy, who weren’t applying, Zeke Zane, Pantheon, Cynthia Owens, and the others were all preparing for the exam.

Anna Willow was also applying.

Everyone who was studying for the exam was a little curious why this star-student couple wasn’t applying for grad school—ahem, or rather, getting a recommendation.

Everyone knew that a graduate degree was worth a lot more.

One day, Pantheon ran into Mortimer Quincy at the school gate as he was waiting to pick up Holly Winslow from class. He couldn’t help but ask, "Mortimer, are you really not applying for grad school?"

Without the slightest hesitation, Mortimer Quincy grunted, "Yeah."

Pantheon pressed, "Why not?"

Mortimer Quincy gave him a cool glance, then said in a matter-of-fact tone, "Going home to have kids."

Pantheon: "..."

’Going home to have what?’

’Have kids?’

He managed to sputter out in English, "Are you kidding?"

Mortimer Quincy looked away, clearly unwilling to answer such an "idiotic" question.

’What’s there to joke about when it comes to having kids?’

Pantheon: "..."

Pantheon was never one to keep things to himself. That very day, the topic "Mortimer Quincy is going home to have kids" flooded their high school group chat.

Everyone was curious to know if it was true. One by one, they boldly tagged Mortimer Quincy, trying to get him to pop up and confirm it with a "Yeah."

On the way home, Holly Winslow noticed Mortimer Quincy’s phone vibrating nonstop, to the point where it was a little abnormal.

It was rare for anyone in that guy’s social circle to message him so relentlessly. The only exception was her. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

She glanced over a few times. "Quincy the Puppy, is that your work group chat?"

Mortimer Quincy glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Seeing her gaze fixed on the phone between them, clearly wanting to look, he tilted his chin up, looking not the least bit guilty. "You look for me."

"Okay."

Holly Winslow picked up his phone with a grin, then skillfully typed in the password. Only then did she realize it was their high school class group chat.

She’d been busy with classes recently and had muted most of her group chats.

She saw the screen-flooding tags for Mortimer Quincy: @Mortimer Quincy, are you going home to have kids?

The same message was repeated for over 99+ messages.

Her: "..."

She looked up at Mortimer Quincy. "Mortimer, what did you do?"

Hearing her suddenly call him "Mortimer," Mortimer Quincy slowed down the car. "What’s wrong?"

"See for yourself when we get home."

Holly Winslow put the phone down, then pointed ahead, gesturing for him to watch the road.

After getting home, Holly Winslow grabbed her phone and ran into the bathroom. Mortimer Quincy sat on the sofa looking at his phone, quickly scrolled through the messages, and then tapped the screen a few times.

No.

A dozen replies immediately flooded the chat: I knew Forrest was talking nonsense.

Forrest, get out here and face the music!

I swear to God, that’s what Mortimer Quincy said himself! Mortimer, you’re lying!

After they had "argued" for a bit in the chat, that guy Mortimer Quincy slowly typed out another line: I can’t give birth. It’s my wife who’s going home to have kids.

Everyone: "..."

Holly Winslow’s shout came from the bathroom, "Quincy the Puppy! Undo that right now!"

Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow and pretended he didn’t hear. He tossed his phone onto the sofa and went to the kitchen to make a fruit platter.

A few minutes later, Holly Winslow came "storming" out of the bathroom. "Quincy the Puppy, I told you to... Mmph!"

Mortimer Quincy had fed her a piece of apple. "We’re having pan-seared steak for dinner."

Holly Winslow was bribed by the food and reluctantly forgave his earlier behavior.

Before long, Anna Willow and Iris Kensington called her on a group voice chat to ask if she was pregnant.

Her: "..."

’There’s something wrong with the way these two think.’ She joked, "That’s right, I’m pregnant. Get ready to be godmothers."

She thought Anna Willow and Iris Kensington would know she was kidding as soon as they heard it, but it turned out she had overestimated them.

The two of them let out an excited "Whoa!" and then started discussing in the group chat whether it would be a boy or a girl.

Her: "..."

She hung up the phone and casually looked up at Mortimer Quincy beside her. Flustered and angry, she threw down her phone and wrapped her hands around the man’s neck. "This is all your fault for spouting nonsense."

A certain Mr. Quincy shrugged innocently. "We’re going home for work, might as well have a kid while we’re at it."

Holly Winslow: "..."

’Might as well my ass.’

She bit his cheek. "You have a kid ’while you’re at it.’ If you pop one out, I’ll take your last name."

Mortimer Quincy wrapped his arms around her waist and let out a low chuckle. "I can’t pop one out, but I can help my wife."

Holly Winslow: "..."

She bared her teeth. "Like I need your help!"

Hearing this, Mortimer Quincy said darkly, "If you don’t want my help, whose help do you want?"

"Hmph, anyone but you." Holly Winslow stuck out her tongue. "I’ll have Ethan York help me."

Mortimer Quincy wasn’t about to get jealous over a "dead character" from a novel. He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? I’ll give you three seconds to reconsider."

Holly Winslow tried to get up, but he flipped her over and pinned her to the sofa, proceeding to give her a "lesson in love." She squirmed uncontrollably from the tickling. "Quincy the Puppy, I was wrong, I was wrong!"

Mortimer Quincy kept tickling her. "Who is Quincy the Puppy?"

"Hubby, he’s my hubby." Holly Winslow was laughing so hard her stomach hurt.

Satisfied, Mortimer Quincy let go. "Good, as long as you know I’m your hubby."

He paused for a moment. "Wifey, I’ve discovered you like being ’forced.’"

Holly Winslow: "..."

She coughed several times, her face turning red. ’Forced my ass.’

Before she could speak, that guy Mortimer Quincy added, "I can totally play the part of Ethan York for you."

Holly Winslow: "..."

Her lips moved, and she finally managed to say, "First, give me five hundred million as a mistress fee."

Hearing the two words "mistress fee," Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow. He thought about it seriously. "No mistress fee, but there’s a wife fee."

Holly Winslow held out her hand to him. "Then give it to me."

The next second, that guy Mortimer Quincy lowered his head and gently rested his chin in her palm. "Five hundred million."

Holly Winslow: "..."

’Shameless. How dare he say his face is worth five hundred million.’

She pinched his face. "Hubby, if you were any more thick-skinned, you’d be worth a billion."

...

Somehow, the false news of her pregnancy reached Wyatt Winslow’s ears. The next day at noon, he called her. "Stop going to class. Come home and rest."

At first, Holly Winslow didn’t understand what he meant or why Wyatt Winslow was suddenly telling her to come home. "Dad, what’s wrong?"

The other end of the line went silent for a few seconds. "Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?"