Substitutee Marriage: Fallingg For My Ugly Wifee

“Why are you this close, love? Are you not worried I might take advantage of the moment?”

Millie’s face, nestled into the crook of his neck, refused to meet his gaze. In a voice that was half petulant and half shy, she whispered, “Well, it’s that time of the month for me, so you really can’t.”

She had been so upset with Marcus earlier; the excuse had slipped her mind until now.

He recognized her evasion, but he wasn’t really trying to push boundaries. Marcus mostly wanted to tease her a bit; she was so adorably hesitant about certain things.

She had a physique that could rival any model’s; how was he supposed to keep his hands to himself?

Millie shifted slightly, her voice trembling with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. “Marcus, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you believe in ghosts?”

She’d always leaned towards science, but recent events had thrown her convictions. The eeriness of what she had witnessed left her rattled.

She couldn’t even remember if they’d broached this topic before, but it didn’t matter right now. She needed to hear his thoughts.

Marcus playfully tapped her backside. “What’s your take?”

A N G E L A ‘s L I B R A R Y

She responded with slight irritation, “I asked you first. Don’t flip the question on me.”

He chuckled. “Well, perhaps. The world’s a vast place with its own mysteries. I mean, consider all the wealthy homes with crosses and religious symbols. They must be seeking some divine protection.”

Marcus’s light-hearted response drew her closer to him; she clung to him for a mix of comfort and something more.

He didn’t genuinely believe what he said about the symbols. To him, it felt more like a trend among the affluent.

Millie’s grip tightened at his words, her fears magnified.

Seizing the moment, Marcus pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, marveling at the silky texture of her skin. Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

In the dim room, Millie barely noticed Marcus’s soft kiss; her fear clouded every other sensation.

After a few heartbeats, her voice wavered. “Could you please close the window? I left it ajar.”

“But we need a bit of fresh air, don’t we?”

“With the AC on, we’re fine. Please, Marcus?”

Her voice held a gentle plea.

A warm smile crept across his face, realizing how spooked she was.

Yet her continuous fidgeting against him stirred a warmth in his chest, making his voice deepen.

“I’ve just had surgery, remember? Still healing up. Would you mind doing it?” he asked, hoping she might face her fears.

She firmly shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t.” Images of ethereal hands reaching out from the shadows, ready to snatch her away, plagued her mind.

His voice, low and persuasive, flowed around her. “Just a few steps, love. It’s hard for me right now.”

She refused again, her voice more desperate. “Can you sing instead?

Maybe it’ll calm us both.”

Marcus’s expression became comical. Singing? Him? That was a disaster waiting to happen.

“But I’ve sung for you. Why won’t you do the same for me?” Millie’s eyes shimmered, on the verge of feeling hurt.

Marcus rushed to comfort her, “It’s not that I won’t. I just can’t sing. Trust me. How about I do some one-handed push-ups instead Millie’s mood shifted from pleading to playfully defiant. “I still want a song.”

With a resigned sigh, Marcus suggested, “Why not grace me with your singing? You have such a melodious voice.”

Reluctantly, she began singing, “I’m a big big girl in a big big world. It’s not a big big thing if you leave me…”

Marcus tried to stifle his chuckle. Her song choice was amusingly unique.