Still, Irene scoffed. "Well, I can give you that much. But was it glamorous?"
Zachary was speechless in turn—his marriage was certainly a dark part of his history and mentioning it was just hurting himself.
He quickly changed the subject. "Do you like grapes? We washed them before bringing them over—I'll get it for you."
Irene caught his sleeve. "By the way, does it count as your second marriage if you marry again?"
Zachary sighed. "You used to respect me so much, but you've really changed. You're just like Isaac now."
Isaac shot Zachary a cool, warning glare right then. "Does it kill you to stay quiet?"
"How boring would it be for everyone if I did?" Zachary retorted calmly and feebly. "It's a nice day out with nice weather but we have nothing to do. Staying quiet would be a waste, so I'm just making the best out of a difficult situation, you know."
"What's difficult about your situation? Don't you have a daughter? What more do you want?" Isaac asked, still upset about how Zachary bragged about having a daughter before.
"But she doesn't have a mother." Zachary sighed.
It was certainly the greatest regret he had—something felt missing since her daughter did not have a complete family.
Irene finally saw that Zachary was just hiding his mood by being talkative.
Yes, he was happy to have a daughter, but it hurt that she would not have a mother.
The more she looked at Zachary's smile now, the more it felt less earnest.
She actually felt like she had not shown him enough concern right then, both as a lowerclassman and as a friend.
As such, she said, "You wanted a grill, was it? Just ask someone to bring it over."
Zachary said, "And cold beer."
Irene wanted to roll her eyes at him—give him an inch, and he would ask for a mile.
"You have a daughter," she told him. "Self-indulgence sets a bad example. You should be a good father."
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