By the time Celeste Grant emerged from her room, three days had already passed.
The afternoon sun shone brightly in the courtyard.
Beneath a tree, Celeste Grant stood with a hand on her lower back, sighing. She lifted her head slightly, her gaze drifting to a flower on a distant branch, which was swaying precariously in the wind. 'Just as miserable as me,' she thought.
'Three days…'
"My back..."
At that moment, Celeste Grant came to a profound realization.
'Never casually tease an old man. You won't be able to handle the consequences.'
"This is giving me a headache."
A figure appeared silently beside her. A hand snaked around her from behind, pulling her into an embrace. As Celeste's body settled against his, she felt him rest his head against the side of her face. "What is my dear wife sighing about?"
