Chapter 71 Cultured Sc*undrel
Shana blinked her eyes. She acted as if she hadn't heard him and raised the lunchbox she was holding, speaking in a soft and considerate tone. "Mr. Floyd, I've brought you a home-cooked meal."
She briefly felt as though she had returned to the times when she cherished him. She didn't bring up divorce constantly and wasn't sharp-tongued or quarrelsome. Instead, she was gentle, always agreeing with him, always soothing his mood. She never argued, never snapped at him.
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