"Aunt, they want to create their own world," Jordan suddenly interrupted.
This time, Irish didn't tell Jordan to be quiet. Instead, she looked at him with gratitude. Mary heard his words and was puzzled. "How old was Joseph, Irish?" she asked in a hushed voice. "Doesn't he like children?"
"Yes, he does like children," Irish answered.
"Then why wait? What are you waiting for, Irish? When a couple lives together, having a child is important. A child is the bond between the two of you. As a counselor, you know this better than anyone. Have children early to strengthen the bond with Joseph. At his age, men are more susceptible to temptation, and Joseph has many desirable qualities. There are women who will be attracted to him. Nowadays, young girls are bold and determined. They will pursue what they want, regardless of whether a man is married or not. If you don't give him a child, what will you do if another woman does?"
Each of Mary's statements was logical, piercing Irish's heart like needles.
However, Jordan found her words amusing. He placed the pickled vegetables into the basket and couldn't help but interject, "There won't be any other woman. My brother is very responsible."
Irish felt a sense of relief in the atmosphere. Mary didn't want to say much either. After all, it wouldn't be polite to discuss Joseph in front of his own brother. Mary patted Irish on the back and said, "Think about yourself."
Irish nodded softly.
But what was there for her to think about?
She blamed herself for not being able to carry a baby to term.
Irish lowered her head and started to wash the dishes without any enthusiasm. Jordan handed her the basket of vegetables, and she took it and began to wash them slowly. Even in the summer, the water felt particularly cold, chilling her fingers and sending a cool sensation to her heart.
Jordan didn't leave; instead, he leaned against the door lazily and watched her.
"If you're trying to comfort me, you can give up," Irish said quietly as she continued to wash the dishes, enduring the coldness of the water.
Jordan remained silent but then stepped forward to help her with the dishes. When they reached for the last one at the same time, their hands touched. Irish tried to pull back, but Jordan held onto her hand.
Irish was taken aback and looked up at him.
Jordan met her gaze with sincerity, tightly holding her hand, and said, "Don't lose hope. You will have your day."
Jordan's words were simple yet comforting, and they had a clear impact on Irish. She felt a significant reduction in the melancholy in her heart. Even though the young man standing in front of her didn't use flowery language or inspirational quotes, he made her realize that there was no such thing as a lonely person in this world, only those who were unwilling to accept love.
Irish didn't utter a word, but a gentle smile appeared on her face.
"Irish," a sudden voice came from the kitchen doorway, deep and steady.
Irish snapped back to reality, instinctively pulling her hand away from Jordan's grip.
Jordan also looked startled.
Joseph stepped forward, turned off the water faucet, and reached out for her. "What were you two talking about?" he asked.
"Brother, there are some green peppers over there. Can you help wash them?" Jordan spoke up and then left the kitchen.
Irish, fearing that Joseph would misunderstand the situation, quickly explained, "It's not what you think, Joseph. Jordan was just trying to comfort me."
The kitchen door opened, revealing Mary. Upon seeing Irish and Joseph in the kitchen, she hurriedly shut the door again.
Irish felt a bit embarrassed.
Joseph gently held her hand, his other hand resting on the back of her head as he looked down at her. "Then why are you so nervous?" he asked.
His breath brushed against her forehead, clean and warm.
He didn't seem angry.
But she was still afraid. Raising her eyes, she timidly looked at him, her lips trembling slightly. "I'm afraid you'll misunderstand," she murmured.
"Irish..." Joseph sighed with reluctance, pressing her head against his chest and whispering, "If there is a man in this world who can prove to me that he will treat you better than I do, then I'll let you go."
Irish's shoulders trembled, and she pulled away from him, staring at him with wide eyes. "What are you saying?" she asked, her voice filled with disbelief.
Her anger made her beautiful eyes even more captivating.
They were like prickly roses, dangerous yet enchanting.
Joseph gazed at her.
His eyes remained calm, devoid of the usual sparkle, and Irish felt darkness in them as if ink had been splashed across his irises, rendering them intense.
Irish was momentarily bewildered, unsure of what his eyes meant.
"Joseph, don't you love me? Are you planning to abandon me?" she complained.
In the next instant, he pulled her back into his arms, resting his chin gently against her cheek and nuzzling it softly. "The man who could make me feel at ease handing you over to him hasn't been born yet," he reassured her.
Irish stared at his neck in astonishment, but before she could react, he held her face, making her meet his playful gaze.
"I think the only one who could truly put my mind at ease is our future son," he teased.
Suddenly realizing that he was joking, Irish's anger turned into a blush as she playfully punched his chest. Her eyes quickly turned pink as she exclaimed, "Why do you have to be so serious? I hate you."
Joseph, seeing the wetness in her eyes and feeling the ache in his heart, allowed her to continue hitting him while he held her tightly, repeatedly apologizing, "I'm sorry, I was wrong."
Irish pushed him against the wall, asserting her dominance.
He was at her mercy.
"Will you stop loving me one day?" Irish looked up at him, her displeasure evident in her voice.
Joseph shook his head gently.
"Will you leave me all alone?"
Joseph shook his head again.
Irish stared at him fiercely. "Listen carefully. If you ever dare to abandon me in the future or threaten me, I swear I will make your brother pickle vegetables and feed them to the dog!"
Joseph burst into laughter. "So you're still willing to harm my family? Jordan would regret ever knowing you."
"What do you think?" Irish gritted her teeth and looked at him intently, then suddenly reached down and grabbed his thing. "I mean your dick!"
Joseph did not expect her to have such a move, and his whole body was almost soft.
"If you abandon me, I'll cut it like a carrot, throw it into a salt jar, or hang it on the wall and air-dry it to make sausages and feed the dog!"
Joseph resisted his smile, stretching to pull her into her arms, bowing with a bad smile, "You can use a little more power."
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