Flash Marriage: Slow Down Mister novel Chapter 45

Isaac, who was sitting in the passenger seat, almost hit the windshield when he heard this. He was shocked.

Clara was shocked too. She looked at Horace in disbelief, saying, "What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you marry me for citizenship?" Horace said peacefully, "Now you get it. And it won't change even if you divorce me."

Clara's face turned pale.

She couldn't believe that Horace knew her purpose.

But she shouldn't be surprised. Since he had investigated her mother, he should be able to know this too.

Looking at Horace's dark eyes, Clara bit her lip and whispered, "I guess you married me for a reason too, right? Will you divorce me when I become useless to you one day?"

Horace didn't expect Clara to ask such a question. He froze for a moment.

Clara was not stupid, she knew that Horace married her in such a hurry for a reason.

Horace's eyes darkened. He whispered, "No."

Clara didn't expect such a quick answer. She was stunned.

Looking at Clara's surprised expression, Horace added in a low voice, "Since I married you, you will be my wife for the rest of your life."

Horace sounded indifferent, but Clara was stunned. She looked at Horace, couldn't believe her ears.

"So." Horace whispered again in a more domineering and determined tone, "Clara, forget about the idea of leaving me. Clara didn't expect to hear this. She was touched.

She felt as if butterflies were flying somewhere deep in her heart.

Suddenly, she didn't dare to look at Horace's dark eyes. She looked away and whispered, "Since I married you, I'll be devoted to you and never divorce you as long as you don't divorce me."

Clara's voice was light, but Horace heard it. Seeing Clara's slightly blushed face, Horace suddenly felt less angry.

He thought to himself, "Forget about it."

He knew that Clara married him for her mother's illness.

She didn't have feelings for him but that was alright.

She belonged to him now and one day she would fall in love with him.

Not knowing if she was overthinking but Clara felt that Horace didn't like Donald and Martha taking care of him, although he was polite to them.

"You haven't eaten yet, right?" Clara took off her coat, rolled up her sleeves, and went into the kitchen, "I'll cook for you."

But when she opened the refrigerator, she was suddenly stunned.

She saw that the fried rice she cooked yesterday in the refrigerator, was wrapped in cling wrap.

"Have you eaten?" Horace had gotten out of her wheelchair and walked behind her.

"I've eaten." Clara replied, "I'll cook you noodles."

As she spoke, she wanted to get the noodles, but Horace grabbed her wrist, "No, I'll just have the fried rice from yesterday if I am to eat alone."

With that, he took out the fried rice in the refrigerator and walked toward the microwave.

Clara stopped him, "You can't eat leftovers."

Horace was very picky about food. Clara couldn't imagine him eating leftovers.

Thinking of this, Clara reached out for the rice. Horace suddenly raised his hand, slightly lifting his eyebrows, "Why can't I? I ate it last night."

Horace was much taller than Clara. Now Clara couldn't reach the fried rice at all.

Clara was in a rush yesterday. She cooked two bowls of fried rice for lunch but she forgot them at home.

Horace must have eaten one of them last night and put the other in the fridge.

Clara felt kind of embarrassed. She reached out to the rice on tiptoes and said, "That was because no one was at home yesterday. But I am here today, I'll cook for you now."

Looking at Clara's anxious face, Horace bit his lips slightly, his hand still above his head. He leaned down a little and blocked right in front of her.

Being so close to Horace, Clara was startled. She lost her balance and almost fell. Luckily, Horace caught her in time. He grabbed her waist.

"Be careful," Horace whispered. "I like the rice you fried."

The sentence was simple, yet Horace spoke in a husky voice. Clara couldn't help but blush.

"If you like it, I'll cook for you now." Clara lowered her head. She didn't want him to know that she was nervous. "Eating leftover is not good for your health."

"Only once in a while. It won't harm." Horace slowly let go of Clara and put the rice in the microwave. "I don't want to waste the food you cooked."

Clara couldn't do anything but watch him heat the rice and eat it.

Horace had a good table manner. He ate the rice elegantly as if he was dining in a fancy restaurant.

"Well…" Clara sat down across Horace while he ate. She rubbed her hands in hesitation and said in the end, "You paid my mother's hospital bill. The doctor said it's 60 thousand in total. I'll pay you back."

Horace was focused on eating. Hearing Clara's words, his face fell.

"Clara." He said patiently, "Have you forgotten what you promised me yesterday?"

"Yesterday?" Clara was confused. Then she realized what he meant. "Do you mean that I promised to ask you for help whenever I need it?"

"Yes." Horace stared at Clara. "I thought we were close."

Horace's eyes were sharp as if they could penetrate everything. Clara looked away in embarrassment. "We are close. But I don't want to owe anyone anything."

She bit her lips when she spoke.

Indeed, Horace and she were friends now. Yet she just couldn't stand owing people.

Horace noticed Clara's stubbornness. Therefore, he gave up on the words he was about to say.

"Since you insist." Horace's gaze fell on the fried rice and something occurred to him. "I don't need the money. You can pay me with something else."

"Like what?" Clara looked at Horace immediately. She couldn't figure out what she could offer him. He shouldn't lack anything.