Ivy Miller grinned: "You'll die of laughter. Your wife is here, and you won't even spend a night with her. By tomorrow, your whole unit will hear about it.
If you're not afraid of losing face, just get me a car now. At worst, I'll just stay in a hotel and come back tomorrow."
Henry Sullivan stared at the woman in front of him, confirming that marriage shouldn't be rushed.
What kind of stubborn person did he marry?
Being sharp-tongued is one thing, but she dares to say anything.
"You, a 24-year-old girl, sure know a lot."
"Because of work," she said, getting up and starting to pull her suitcase, "Didn't I tell you? About my job."
Henry felt his temples throbbing. He wanted a divorce.
As she spoke, she started placing items beside the sofa. A loud report sounded at the door, and Henry panicked, quickly saying, "Hurry and pack those things up."
"Why, are you embarrassed?"
"Ivy Miller, I order you, immediately, right now, pack up."
