Reborn with My Genius Husband

Chapter 315 - 325: Actually, Wyatt Winslow’s Fatherly Love Has Always Been Very Strong

After tidying up the house, it was almost noon. She went into the kitchen to cook, packed the food into two containers, and then went out to deliver lunch to Wyatt Winslow and Mortimer Quincy.

Wyatt’s factory had gotten quite large. Before, the walk from the gate to the main factory area took only a few minutes, but now it was ten. To get all the way to Wyatt’s office, she estimated it would take fifteen minutes.

Wyatt was in his office handling some work. Holly Winslow knocked and entered with a wide smile. "Dad, your sweet little girl is here."

Seeing her enter, Wyatt put away his documents, pushing them to one side. Holly put the food on his desk. "I didn’t cook any meat, just a couple of vegetable dishes. I’ll go buy some meat on my way back."

Wyatt said, "Mm," and stood up to get a stool for her, gesturing for her to sit. Holly sat down and watched him eat for a few minutes before leaving to take Mortimer his lunch.

Mortimer’s temporary office was in a converted three-bedroom apartment by the South Roundabout. It wasn’t large, but the renovations were well done, making it look like a proper small company.

Mortimer had told her his office was the one at the very end. Before she could even get there, a young, pretty woman—an assistant, most likely—blocked her path. "Excuse me, you can’t go in there. This is President Quincy’s office." As she spoke, she scanned Holly from head to toe.

’She probably thinks I’m just another floozy trying to get his attention.’

Holly simply said, "Oh," not wanting to make things difficult. "Could you please let him know his wife is here to see him?"

The assistant froze for a second, her eyes sizing Holly up again. "President Quincy is resting," she explained. "He just lay down."

’Now Holly was getting annoyed. She had to wait just to see her own husband?’

She stared at the assistant. "If you’re not going to get him, I’m going in myself."

She paused, then added seriously, "He may be your President Quincy, but he’s my husband. You’d do well to remember that."

’Hmph. Sorry, but you’re way too amateur for this. I’ve seen every type of woman imaginable in my past life.’

Mortimer had appeared at the doorway at some point, a smile on his face as he watched Holly putting on her "I’m Mortimer’s wife" act. "Honey, I’m hungry."

His expression then turned cold as he addressed the female assistant. "You’re President Sawyer’s assistant. Leave my matters to Chuck Owens." He then looked past her. "Chuck, from now on, no one is to enter my office except my wife."

His scalp prickling under that gaze, Chuck Owens nodded. "Yes, President Quincy."

Inside the office, Holly set the lunch on the desk. "Hmph," she said, her tone dripping with jealousy. "Quincy the Puppy, a pretty assistant, huh? Weren’t you tempted?"

"Where?"

Mortimer raised an eyebrow. "My eyes are only for Teacher Winslow."

"The beautiful, poised, and brilliant Teacher Winslow."

Holly was very pleased with his answer. She cupped his face in her hands, her eyes curving into happy crescents. "Here, let me see if I’m really the only one in those eyes of yours."

Mortimer seized the opportunity, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her onto his lap before planting a firm kiss on her lips.

Just then, the door swung open. "President Quincy..." Chuck Owens trailed off as he took in the scene. "..."

Trembling, he quickly shut the door and backed out.

’I’m so dead. I really messed up.’

Holly, caught in the middle of an intimate moment, was speechless. "..."

She scrambled off his lap and held out her hand, trying to sound nonchalant. "I’m heading home now. Give me some money so I can buy groceries."

She didn’t bother explaining that she’d forgotten to bring any cash with her.

Nor did Mortimer ask. He pinched her cheek, his voice full of affection. "We’ll go together later."

He opened the lunch container and took a spoon out of his drawer for Holly. "Sweetheart, have a bite."

Holly was speechless again. "..."

She took the spoon, conflicted about the pet name. "Mortimer, we’re an old married couple. You don’t have to be so mushy."

"I’ll still be calling my wife ’sweetheart’ when we’re old. Hmm, and ’baby,’ too."

Holly: "..."

Mortimer fed her a piece of greens, and she fed him a spoonful of rice in return.

After a few bites, she stopped eating. She truly wasn’t hungry; she’d had breakfast at ten o’clock.

When she was bored, she liked to play with Mortimer’s hair. The man’s hair was so soft and smooth. ’The hair of a rich man, for sure.’

Mortimer was obviously used to it and let her do as she pleased with his hair. A few minutes later, he finished his meal, pulled out his phone, and opened the camera app.

Sure enough, his hair was now adorned with several pretty hair ties.

Showing not a hint of guilt, Holly grinned and flashed a peace sign at the camera.

Mortimer, disregarding his image, snapped a photo.

Holly took his phone, sent the photo to herself, and then pixelated his face to preserve the man’s dignity.

She posted a status update: Someone’s hair looks great with these ties.

Iris Kensington: That’s my handsome cousin for you. Still hot even with his face blurred out.

Anna Willow: Oh my god, your handsome cousin actually let you play with his hair!

A whole CEO-and-his-pampered-young-wife scene just popped into my head. The CEO stares coldly at the woman before him: "Woman, who gave you the nerve to touch my head? Do you have a death wish?"

The woman blinks her gorgeous eyes: "President Quincy, do you still want to come home tonight?"

The CEO’s icy expression freezes for a moment, then his voice softens: "Honey."

Iris Kensington: Hahahaha, I can totally picture that!

Pantheon replied to Anna Willow: Anna, you could do that with Zeke Zane too, but he doesn’t have much hair. He might go bald.

Holly couldn’t help but laugh out loud when she read this. She looked over at Mortimer, who was busy removing the hair ties. "Honey, you’d still be handsome even if you went bald."

Hearing his wife’s sudden comment, Mortimer was at a loss for words. "..."

He raised an eyebrow. "And my wife looks good without wearing anything, too."

Holly: "..."

...

The next day was Sunday, and Wyatt had the day off as well.

He called Holly that morning to come try on wedding dresses, and she arrived just a few minutes later.

She froze the moment she walked in the door. There were over a dozen wedding dresses.

Behind his glasses, Wyatt’s eyes held a barely perceptible look of anticipation. "Take a look and see which ones you like. If you don’t like any of them, we can look for others."

A private, at-home fitting like this was bound to be expensive. "Dad, we don’t need anything this fancy," Holly said. "A dress from one of the shops in town would be perfectly fine."

She scanned the dresses of all different styles. She had thought this would save him some trouble, but instead, it seemed he’d gone to even greater lengths.

"You’re not the one paying for it," Wyatt said, assuming she was worried about the expense.

The saleswoman chimed in, "Ma’am, our gowns are completely handmade. The fit is much better than the machine-sewn dresses you find elsewhere. Marriage is a once-in-a-lifetime event; you should choose a dress that you’re truly happy with."

Holly looked at Wyatt, who was also watching her, as if trying to gauge whether she disliked the dresses.

’That was her father. As long as she liked something, nothing was too much.’

Her eyes began to sting. She turned back to him. "Dad, why don’t you help me pick? I think they’re all beautiful."

Without a moment’s hesitation, Wyatt said in a low, steady voice, "Then we’ll take all of them."

The saleswoman stared, stunned. She was shocked by such extravagance from someone in a small town. The dozen or so dresses would total several hundred thousand—enough to buy a whole house in this town.

What she didn’t understand was that this sum represented a father’s feelings for his daughter’s wedding.

A heavy, silent expression of his love.

No, that’s not right. In truth, Wyatt’s fatherly love had always been immense.

Holly had managed to hold back her emotions until now, but this finally broke her. A lump formed in her throat, her nose stung, and tears began to stream down her face. She quickly turned away to wipe them.

Seeing this, Wyatt was at a loss, his hand hovering uncertainly. "What’s wrong?"

Holly quickly composed herself. She turned back, her eyes red-rimmed, but her smile was genuine. "Dad," she said with earnest sincerity, "I’m going to look so beautiful in these dresses."

’Because you’re the one who picked them for me.’