Sky-High Pampering Plan Of Her Destined Husband

Janet slowly put on her clothes.

She knew she was wrong. However, Ethan shouldn't have reacted that way either.

She was innocent, and Christopher did not do anything to her.

'Can't I talk to another man just because I'm with Ethan now?'

"Are you insane?" Janet cursed under her breath as she buttoned up her shirt. Tears streamed down her face.

She stood up and wanted to go back to her bedroom, but she waited in front of Ethan's room for a long time. Janet even pressed her ear against the door to hear what was happening inside.

But the room was strangely silent.

Janet clenched her fist and was almost about to knock on the door. But she ultimately decided against it.

What could she possibly tell him after getting inside?

Ethan was still angry. He would probably pinch her face and continue to question her or push her onto the bed. She had just escaped from him. Going inside would be like voluntarily setting foot into the trap and letting Ethan interrogate her all over again.

"Janet, you're such a wuss!" She hated herself for hesitating outside, not knowing what to do.

Janet wandered around in the living room for a while and glanced at Ethan's bedroom door.

'Should I take the initiative to apologize to Ethan?' she wondered.

But they had never got into a fight like this before. Janet was hesitant whether to apologize first. After all, Ethan had also been mean and rude to her earlier.

Lying on the sofa, hugging the pillow, Janet stared at the closed door.

"You have to come out sometime. Then we'll talk." She snorted and buried her face in the cushion.

Janet wanted to stay awake. She held her cushion and waited, but her eyelids grew heavy.

Janet didn't know when she fell asleep.

The next morning, she was awakened by the honk of the car downstairs.

Thinking she was sleeping on the bed, Janet stretched herself and turned over. But as a result, she clumsily fell on the carpet. Janet winced in pain, for her back hurt. Fortunately, there was a carpet. Otherwise, she would have broken her waist.

Janet scratched her hair and sat up. She had a terrible hangover. Her stomach felt queasy and her temples throbbed as if someone were piercing them with an electric drill. She sat on the sofa, staring at the wall, not knowing what to do.

Once the fog in her mind settled, she looked at herself and found a blanket wrapped around her. Breakfast and hangover pills were lying on the tea table beside her. The steaming bowl of porridge made her mouth water. She stared at it in a daze.