"Adam, Dean."
As the children ran toward Claire, all her grievances and frustration melted away. She wrapped them in her arms, happiness flooding her heart as a radiant smile lit up her face.
"Mommy, we missed you so much! You have to stay with us every day. If you don't, I'm going back to TF Garden. I'm tired of eating pasta and ham every day," Adam complained, clinging to her neck and pouting adorably.
These past days, he and Dean had been with Gilbert, whose cooking repertoire consisted only of Italian noodles and fried ham. They were sick of it.
"You heard the kids," Gilbert chimed in from the side, deliberately backing them up.
Claire shot him a glare, still not fully understanding what Adam meant.
"Adam, look, your mommy just hit me. She even pinched me." Gilbert put on his most pitiful face, showing them his arm, which indeed bore a few red marks and faint nail scratches.
The man's performance at playing the victim was flawless.
