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Chapter 192 Massages and Misfires
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Jordan approached with a perfectly polite, professional smile and handed Yunice a thick stack of papers. “Ms. Saunders, here you go.”
Yunice looked down and saw a brown envelope full of documents–with the words “Premarital Medical Exam” stamped across the top.
She blinked. “We’re doing a physical exam before marriage?”
She’d thought people like these powerhouses usually just skipped everything except the marriage license and the wedding night.
Jordan replied, “It’s best to be sure. That way Wyatt’s at ease, and you are too-
-right?”
True, Yunice thought. Wyatt probably just wanted to make sure she was clean. In this day and age, it made sense to check.
“Wyatt’s over there,” Jordan said, gesturing.
Yunice followed his hand and spotted a tall figure, head and shoulders above the back of the bench.
She hesitated, then leaned in to ask, “Do we really have to wait in line for a premarital exam?”
Shouldn’t someone like Wyatt be able to wave his hand and summon an entire streamlined service staff just for the two of them?
“Ms. Saunders,” Jordan replied solemnly, “as citizens, we must uphold public order and refrain from abusing our privileges. Don’t you agree?”
Yunice gave him a look like he’d lost his mind, then turned away and headed toward Wyatt with the paperwork.
Unfortunately, Wyatt had his arms crossed and his eyes closed–she couldn’t tell whether he was actually asleep or just resting.
Yunice glanced at the long line ahead. It would be a while before their turn came, so she didn’t wake him. She sat beside him and started scanning the medical forms.
Just then, a man’s voice nearby–grating and unfiltered–cut through her thoughts.
“She’s loose and saggy now. I’d rather do it myself than touch her… When she was pregnant,
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Chapter 192 Massages and Misfires
her neck, armpits, and chest turned black. I swear, it was disgusting. She gained 50 pounds! I had to lift her belly just to–ugh, forget it, I couldn’t even get in…”
Yunice grimaced, eyebrows scrunching in revulsion. She glanced up and saw a slick–haired, wiry man with a leather portfolio under his arm plop down in the row ahead.
Holding back the urge to gag, she lowered her eyes and focused on the exam forms, trying to
tune him out.
But he kept going. “I’m telling you, I haven’t touched her in years. When she gave birth–oh man, that smell, all those fluids, it nearly killed me. You’re way better–young women smell sweet. Divorce? She wouldn’t dare. She’s too used to the good life. Without me, she couldn’t survive. You’re so much better in bed. Once I get the folic acid prescription, let’s start trying for a baby. I’ll leave all my assets to our son.Let her make a scene. She loves to cry anyway. She can cry all she wants. You should see her tears rolling down that fat face of hers–like watching a pig’s head come alive.”
A deafening crash split the air.
Yunice jumped, shocked, turning toward Wyatt–now wide awake.
Expressionless, he calmly lowered the leg he’d just used to kick the entire row of chairs, his cold, sharp eyes fixed ahead.
The string of chairs had shifted off track, and the man on the phone had gone flying.
The man stumbled to his feet, nearly faceplanting, and turned around, seething with rage, ready to see who had kicked him.
But when he locked eyes with Wyatt, a chill went straight down his spine. All the insults he had loaded up caught in his throat.
People around them began whispering and pointing. The man hesitated, torn between pride and survival. In the end, deciding Wyatt was not someone to mess with, he found a seat far, far away.
“Was he bothering you?” Wyatt asked, voice low.
That kick had been no joke–with just one good leg, he still sent the man flying.
Wyatt rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t asleep.”
“Huh?”
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Chapter 192 Massages and Misfires
“I was annoyed.”
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Yunice blinked at him, surprised. It was rare for Wyatt to show any emotion in front of her.
“Want me to give you a massage?” she offered.
Wyatt gave a soft grunt, letting her try.
When he opened his eyes a moment later, he found Yunice turned sideways, gently pressing on the web between his thumb and index finger with her small fingers.
“Seriously? Your intentions couldn’t be more obvious.” Was she trying to swipe his bracelet under the guise of a massage?
“Massaging this pressure point helps calm the nerves,” Yunice said calmly. “There are lots of ways to help you sleep. But it’ll be our turn soon.”
If he fell asleep now, who would go with her to the exam?
Wyatt didn’t argue and let her hold his hand.
Yunice looked up slightly, catching the faintest trace of henbane on him–barely there, but unmistakable.
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