In Faye's pitch-black eyes, a wicked gleam flashed briefly: "If you move again, I might really throw you to the sharks."
Tessa's legs suddenly went weak.
She felt both wronged and sad, bursting into tears: "Faye, just divorce me. This way, you won't have to live in constant fear of having to feed me to the sharks."
"Alright, I won't scare you anymore, and you are not to mention divorce again," Faye raised a hand to wipe her tears.
The tears on her face felt soft and smooth, making one's heart melt, wanting to pull her into an embrace and kiss her fiercely.
But Tessa was sobbing uncontrollably, clinging to him with hands and feet, smearing her snot and tears all over him.
The man with a cleanliness obsession really couldn't stand it, pushing her away with disgust: "Didn't I say I wouldn't throw you? And you're still crying, it's disgusting..."
Tessa cried and hiccuped: "I—hic—I can't—hic—stop!"
Faye really didn't know whether to be angry or amused.
