Remarriage Failed Again Today

Chapter 594: Chapter 594: How Could My Husband Be as Important as You?

Annabelle Linton irritably ran a hand through her hair and answered the phone. "Mr. Holland."

Quentin Holland let out a helpless laugh. "I must have told you at least five times to call me and let me know you arrived safely. Well, in one ear and out the other. It’s a good thing I called you, or I wouldn’t have been able to sleep tonight..."

Annabelle chuckled apologetically. "I forgot as soon as I got off the plane..."

It was mainly because of Leona Grant. He was stuck to her side no matter what she did; she could barely even touch her phone.

Speaking of Leona Grant, Annabelle hadn’t even noticed that despite her exasperation, the corners of her lips were turned up in a smile.

As she spoke, Annabelle Linton got up and walked toward the balcony.

She leaned one hand on the balcony railing, gazing at the scenery below as she continued to chat with Quentin Holland.

After his shower, Leona Grant realized he hadn’t grabbed any underwear. He looked up at the ceiling, speechless, and shouted, "Annabelle Linton, bring me a pair of underwear—"

"..." Annabelle had closed the balcony door and couldn’t hear him.

After a minute with no one coming in, Leona Grant tried again. "Honey, bring me some underwear..."

"..."

"Annabelle Linton!"

"..."

’Did she fall asleep?’

Leona Grant wondered in surprise. Helpless, he put on his bathrobe, tying the belt as he opened the door and walked out. He muttered to himself, "Silly woman. She must be exhausted from the last couple of days."

Leona Grant stepped out, but Annabelle Linton was nowhere to be seen on the bed.

He paused in surprise, then lifted his gaze and immediately spotted her standing out on the balcony.

Through the bright, clear glass, he saw her standing at the railing in a bath towel, her back to him.

Annabelle Linton’s long, damp hair was draped over her shoulders. The bath towel didn’t quite cover her fair, delicate skin, creating a vision that was both seductive and pure.

The light from the room spilled onto her, seeming to drape her in a romantic and elegant veil of gauze.

He could faintly hear the sound of her voice. It seemed like she was on the phone.

’Who could it be?’

Leona Grant deliberately quieted his steps, opening the door and approaching her.

The carpet absorbed the sound of his footsteps, and Annabelle Linton didn’t notice a thing.

"When did you get so forgetful?"

Quentin Holland took a can of milk from the fridge, opened it, and took a sip before lying down on his bed. He teased, "Got a husband and already forgot all about your senior..."

Annabelle Linton laughed and joked back, "No, no, of course my senior is more important! How could my husband be as important as you?"

Leona Grant’s footsteps stopped dead.

"Is that so?" Quentin Holland’s lips curved into a smile. "How are you going to prove it?"

"You need proof...?" Annabelle Linton let out a soft laugh. "How about I rip my heart out and show you?"

"Er... no need for that. I’ll trust you for now... What are you up to?"

"Not much, just about to go to sleep. You?"

"Me?" Quentin Holland looked at the bright moon outside his window. The lonely, cold moonlight streamed in, making the room feel chilly.

He blinked slowly and said nonchalantly, "What else would I be doing? I’ll take a shower in a bit, then write up some case reports..."

"Huh? That sounds so tough."

Annabelle Linton started to worry. She frowned, her expression serious as she asked, "Can your body handle that? I’m telling you, Mr. Holland, staying up all night takes a huge toll on your health. You have to take good care of yourself. Oh, right, have you eaten yet?"

"...You ate with me for the past two days. Without you here today, I didn’t feel like eating," Quentin Holland said quietly.

Annabelle Linton said in surprise, "You haven’t eaten at this hour... Ah!"

Before she could finish her sentence, she was suddenly swept up into an embrace.

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