Chapter 1185: Chapter 1187: I Want You to Be My Wife
"I want you, I want you to be my wife, it’s just that simple."
His last words left Sophie Sullivan feeling icy cold inside...
If at this very moment, she weren’t Cecilia Branford impersonating Isabel, he might really have married Isabel.
At that time, who was the one who wholeheartedly forced her to have a child?
And who was it that coerced her into tattooing her chest?
Now he says it’s fine; tattoos can be washed away easily, and the person to marry can change at will.
Sophie couldn’t help but want to ask, to Thomas Shannon, what is real, what is fake?
Thomas Shannon held her small, saddened face, lowered his head, pressing his forehead against hers, "Why aren’t you talking, hmm?"
"Not happy, don’t want to talk..."
The doorbell rang at that moment.
Thomas Shannon released her, "Your soup noodles have arrived."
Then, he got up to open the door, and the waiter brought in the soup noodles, more than a dozen bowls in total, steaming hot.
Thomas Shannon rubbed his forehead in distress, "Cecilia, your soup noodles."
Sophie glanced at him, seeing his distressed look made her happy, and she got up to sit in front of the dining table.
She picked up a spoon and tasted the soup; it was delicious, not bad.
She picked up chopsticks and started eating, while Thomas Shannon crossed his arms, chuckling lightly, "So much, can you finish it?"
"Who said I have to finish it, can’t I just try a bit of each flavor?"
Thomas Shannon nodded and sat down opposite her, "Sure, eat however you like, if you can’t finish, spilling it for fun is okay too."
Spilling it for fun?
As if she’s still three years old...
Sophie glanced at him with irritation, "I’m not that childish."
In the end, she was hungry, so Sophie stopped paying him any mind and focused on eating the soup noodles.
A layer of spicy oil floated on the soup noodles, glistening red; her lips grew redder, her smooth, full forehead broke out into a fine sweat.
Perhaps it was too spicy; she held a spoon in one hand, chopsticks in the other, her red lips slightly parted, breathing lightly.
Her eye sockets were rimmed with redness, and her eyes were watery, as if tears might spill out at any moment.
Thomas Shannon stood up, opened the refrigerator, took out a bottle of iced fruit juice, returned to the dining table, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to her.
Sophie hummed in frustration, turning her head away, Thomas Shannon stood up, walked around the dining table, sat beside her, wrapped one arm around her, and gently urged, "Come on, drink some juice."
Sophie glared at him ambiguously, "Are you this good to everyone?"
"No, only to you."
Liar!
He’s obviously nice to her too; he’s saying this to Isabel just to make her happy, right?
Clearly, a man’s words shouldn’t be trusted easily.
With sweet talk, he can deceive you into a daze.
"Cecilia, be a good girl, don’t make things hard for yourself, drink the juice." She was almost in tears from the spiciness, yet still sulking with him, such a stubborn habit!
Sophie couldn’t hold back anymore, her red lips pursed and she gulped down some fruit juice.
The fiery sensation in her oral cavity was finally somewhat suppressed.
Thomas Shannon looked at her with a mix of amusement and exasperation, "Want more?"
"Yes." Sophie replied, her red lips moving closer again.
Thomas Shannon fed her, enjoying this rare moment of serenity.
He suddenly had an absurd thought, if he could spend a lifetime with her just like this, it wouldn’t be so bad.
At least, she’s obedient.
At least, she hasn’t tried to escape from him.
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