My Secret Husband Is My Cold Boss novel Chapter 101

"You're right," she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"So, can you eat now?" Sampson tilted his chin toward the savory skewers in Wendy's hand.

Wendy didn't move.

"I just had a burger," she admitted. "Honestly, I can't stomach another bite."

"But you just said you wanted to eat," he reminded her.

Wendy squeezed the paper cup tight.

She had just counted—Sampson had bought a cup overflowing with fifteen skewers.

She sniffled, feeling guilty. "How about... we share them?"

Sampson didn't move.

His hand rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Didn't you say they were delicious last time?" Wendy pressed.

Throwing them away would be a waste. "Plus, you literally just told me to call you tonight if I needed anything," she pointed out.

"Well, right now, I really need your help."

It was the first time Sampson had seen Wendy twist logic like this. He couldn't help but chuckle.

He turned his head to look at her. "Half and half."

"Half probably won't work," Wendy muttered under her breath.

Seeing his confused expression, she pointed at the sticks to remind him. "You bought fifteen skewers."

"You take eight, I'll take seven."

Sampson was speechless.

After a moment, he couldn't help but ask, "Are we really haggling over a single skewer?"

"Yes, we are," Wendy replied with absolute conviction.

Normally, she wouldn't care.

But right now, she was entirely too full. It absolutely mattered.

She decided to educate him. "You've probably never experienced being overly stuffed before, so you don't realize how much of an impact a single piece of meat can have on a full stomach."

Sampson, who had nearly thrown up from being force-fed a massive bowl of spaghetti just a few days ago, suffered in silence.

They had been married for two months, and Sampson usually only offered faint smiles that barely touched the corners of his lips.

It was the first time she had heard him laugh so openly.

Wendy turned her head.

Her gaze collided with Sampson's smiling eyes.

The corners of the man's mouth were lifted, and his Adam's apple, exposed above his shirt collar, shifted slightly with the rise and fall of his chest.

She could even see her own reflection in his eyes.

Their eyes locked.

Wendy watched his face draw closer and closer.

Outside, the wind rustled the leaves.

Inside the confined, intimate space of the car, her senses were infinitely magnified.

So magnified... that in this moment, she could clearly hear the rhythm of their breathing, and the faint rustle of his clothes against the steering wheel.

And the thudding of a racing heartbeat—though she couldn't tell whose it was.