Gideon's large, warm hand reached over and firmly covered Nora's left hand, which was resting on the table.
The man's palm was dry and warm, the heat seeping steadily through her skin and thawing Nora's freezing blood. Gripping her hand, his fingers curled inward slightly, completely enveloping her hand within his own.
Nora stared at the perfectly deboned piece of fish on her plate, feeling the very real warmth radiating across the back of her hand. Her heart began racing uncontrollably in her chest.
Gideon had not only defended her in public, but he had also actively played along with the elder's pressure to have a child, giving her the utmost dignity as his wife.
His claim in the car that he "had no intention of replacing her" suddenly didn't seem like just empty words meant to pacify her. In this fleeting moment, Nora experienced the long-lost warmth that typically belonged to a normal married couple.
She lifted her head, looking at the man beside her. Gideon's face remained sharp and composed, but the usual harshness in his eyes had faded; perhaps he genuinely wanted to try making this marriage work.
“How can work be more important than having a baby?” Brenda muttered indignantly.
Gideon barely raised his eyes, his gaze calm but dripping with authority. Meeting his eyes, Brenda immediately snapped her mouth shut, not daring to utter another word.
The atmosphere at the table returned to normal. The elders tactfully changed the subject.
Right in the middle of this harmonious ambiance, a blatantly displeased voice rang out abruptly.
“Gideon, I want that seafood soup.”
Giselle, sitting to Gideon's right, aggressively tapped her empty bowl with her spoon. The sharp clinking of porcelain echoed clearly, drawing the attention of several people nearby.
Giselle's face was extremely sour. Watching Gideon serve Nora food, watching the elders treat Nora with geniality, the jealousy in her heart spread like wildfire. She couldn't tolerate Gideon's attention leaving her for even a single second, and she absolutely couldn't endure anyone in this house acknowledging Nora.
Her hands clenched violently beneath the tablecloth, her perfectly manicured nails nearly snapping.


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