Harry Hunter was quite dissatisfied with the word "delicate," pressing Isabella Weaver with a fierce look, "Say, your husband is the most brave! Or you won't get to eat the pomegranate!"
"Fine, fine, brave, brave."
"No way, that's too perfunctory!"
"My husband is the most brave!"
"Hmm, that's more like it."
Isabella Weaver looked at Harry Hunter amusedly, thinking it's quite fun to coax him; he's actually very easy to please.
After a bit of playful banter, she finally pushed Harry Hunter away and ran to the bathroom to change clothes.
Harry Hunter was in a rather good mood, called Connor to bring breakfast over, and grabbed half of a pomegranate to eat while leaning on the sofa.
Isabella Weaver appeared in business attire with her hair done, only to find the dining table already full of delicacies.
Yet her man didn't spare a glance at those delicacies, absorbed in eating the pomegranate.
Isabella Weaver snatched the pomegranate away, "No more of this, eat breakfast!"
