With that one rhetorical question, Zebulon believed he had successfully defused the situation.
He hadn't said he wouldn't marry her. In his heart, he was willing.
Especially lately, when he realized how empty he felt now that she wasn't chasing after him anymore.
He had already thought it through. Marrying another woman might not be as good as marrying Naomi, who was so gentle and obedient. He would forgive her for all the drama she had caused, as long as she behaved from now on.
"I see."
Naomi nodded. The pain from her wrist finally shot through her body. She winced, saying softly, "Let go. You're hurting me."
Zebulon scoffed, about to retort, "What are you, trying to play the victim?" but then his eyes caught sight of her wrist. It was red and looked almost swollen.
"This... Why didn't you say something sooner?"
A flicker of concern crossed his eyes. An apology was on the tip of his tongue, but it was cut short by Naomi's quiet question, "Would you have listened?"
"What's that tone?" Zebulon snapped, his irritation returning. He couldn't understand what she was still so hung up about.
He had just tacitly admitted he would marry her, giving her the commitment she wanted, and she was still putting on airs. You really couldn't spoil a woman too much.
Give them an inch, and they'll take a mile.
"Let's go back. Don't keep your parents waiting."
Naomi closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, her gaze was clear.
She had made her decision. Since she couldn't escape, she would have to accept it.
She would try to adapt to this new life.
Zebulon keenly sensed a change in her. His gaze fell to her wrist, which now looked seriously swollen. He felt a pang of guilt and, for once, did as he was told, quietly following her back to the dining room.
The adults chuckled when they saw the two return.
"The young couple is getting along so well."
"Hahaha, aren't they?"


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