Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

Chapter 44
In her dream, snowflakes danced in a frenetic ballet outside the window as Leanne lay beneath the powerful heat of Curtis' body, her soft gasps swallowed by fervent kisses. His voice, tender enough to wring water from, whispered endearments in her ear, "Anne..." Then, she was swallowed by a raucous crowd feeling as vulnerable as a snail stripped of its shell, anxiety gnawing at her.
And there was Curtis, like a god upon his celestial throne, basking in a spotlight's glare, his lips curled in a cool and merciless smile. His voice, casual as a devil's murmur, carried the echo of a torturous taunt, "If I can't be with the one I love,
then who I marry
doesn't matter."
Leanne awoke amidst a torrent of sorrow, her cheeks chilled by the trail of tears she hadn't realized had fallen.
Her heart felt hollowed out, with a deep and pervasive ache tormenting her every
nerve.
But she didn't know what could fill the void.
Sleep eluded her for the rest of the night. Every time she shut her eyes, the highs and lows
of Curtis' character filled her mind.
Her fitful rest meant she woke with a splitting headache.
At work, everyone who saw her commented, "You look terrible, what's wrong?"
Leanne claimed a bad night's sleep, to which Amy nonchalantly replied, "Insomnia again? Didn't that herbal tea I recommended fix you tun? What's up
now
Leanne's sleep had indeed been troubled lately
Probably because Curtis was back in town.
"You want a coffee?" Leanne deflected, "I'll grab you one."
"Sure," Amy was easily distracted, "And grab me some chocolates."
Leanne approached the vending machine for a canned coffee, but of course, it was just her luck. Only one can left.
She considered something else but couldn't muster any enthusiasm. Settling for a bottled iced tea, she cursed her luck as the machine jammed, the bottle tantalizingly stuck..
e tried to shake the machine, putting all her might into it, but the bottle wouldn't budge.
Leanne felt a wave of frustration.
Her luck was always rotten.
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