"Naomi!"
Zebulon suddenly stood up, grabbing her by the wrist. He turned to the four parents with a playful grin. "Mom, Dad, you're putting us on the spot. Can't you let us eat in peace? Talking about all this at the table is making Naomi blush."
"How about this? I'll take her for a walk, and we'll see you all home later, okay?"
Mrs. Gonzalez shot Naomi a warning look before smiling and agreeing.
Naomi tried to speak again, but Zebulon squeezed her wrist hard, then pulled her out of the room before she could resist.
To Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, the scene looked like a charming display of young love.
Mrs. Hughes remarked with a sigh, "That boy. He's always complaining about us arranging his life, but his actions speak louder than words."
Mr. and Mrs. Gonzalez were, of course, pleased to hear this. With the kids gone, the adults could talk more freely.
The atmosphere in the room instantly warmed, becoming even more lively than before.
Out in the hallway, however, Naomi yanked her hand away from Zebulon, and the air between them turned ice-cold.
Zebulon's patience had reached its limit. "Naomi, who are you throwing a tantrum at?"
"Is this how you treat our elders?"
"I don't need you to teach me how to interact with my elders, thank you."
Naomi had just mustered the courage to speak her mind, only to be cut off by Zebulon. She was seething with frustration.
She didn't know if she would ever find that kind of courage again. Today might have been her only chance to tell her parents and the Hugheses how she really felt.
And Zebulon had ruined it.
A sense of deep injustice washed over her, and her eyes began to well up with tears.
"Zebulon, what do you want from me?"


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