Reborn with My Genius Husband

Chapter 173: Drinking the Sweet Wedding Tea

"Close enough," Iris Kensington sighed wistfully. "The love story of two top students... It’s enough to make anyone jealous."

Holly Winslow let out a chuckle. "You’re so dramatic, Ellie."

Anna Willow laughed too, hugging Holly Winslow’s arm tightly. "We’ll be counting on you from now on."

The three of them chatted late into the night.

...

During the final month, the pressure of studying for the exams was immense. In the middle of an afternoon self-study session, while the entire class was buried in practice tests, Claire Langley, who sat in the second row, suddenly slumped over her desk and began to cry.

Everyone in the classroom looked over, unsure of what was happening.

Eventually, the class president went to the office to get Gabe Chaucer. Gabe took Claire Langley to his office to console her. He soon found out that her parents’ expectations were crushing her—they were demanding that she get into a top-tier university.

Gabe Chaucer sighed inwardly, unsure of what to say. Once Claire Langley had calmed down, he sent her back to the classroom and asked her deskmate to help talk her through it.

Afterward, he spoke with Claire Langley’s parents and also sent a message to all the other parents in the class, advising them not to put too much pressure on their children during this final month.

At lunchtime, Holly Winslow got a call from her father, Wyatt Winslow. "Are you feeling okay?"

The sudden question threw Holly Winslow for a loop. She instinctively glanced at Mortimer Quincy—not for any particular reason, just out of habit.

She shook her head. "Dad, I’m fine. What’s wrong?"

Wyatt Winslow let out a sigh of relief on the other end of the line. After a moment, he said earnestly, "Holly, I don’t have any expectations about which university you get into."

So she shouldn’t be too hard on herself.

Holly was his only daughter; he never wanted to be overly demanding.

He wanted her to be independent, but he also wanted her to be healthy and happy.

Hearing this, Holly understood that Gabe Chaucer must have told him about what happened with Claire Langley. Her nose tinged with emotion as she smiled and said with certainty, "I know. You just want me to be happy, Dad."

"I’m okay, Dad. I rest when I get tired from studying. You’re the one who needs to get more rest! You’ve got dark circles under your eyes. If I come home and see you still have them, I’m going to have to give you a lecture, you know."

Mortimer Quincy, sitting beside her, watched her pout one moment and bat her eyes the next. It was ridiculously cute. As soon as she hung up, he leaned in, his handsome face close to hers. "Honey, I have dark circles too. How about a lecture for me?"

He did have faint shadows under his eyes, but so did most of the senior class. Holly Winslow patted his shoulder and winked. "Hang in there. Victory is at hand."

"’Hang in there’ says he wants kisses," Mortimer Quincy said, the corners of his long, narrow eyes crinkling in a smirk.

Holly Winslow: "..."

She grabbed a large stack of practice tests from nearby and plopped them onto his desk, tilting her chin up. "’Hang in there’ says you need to do more of these."

The corners of Mortimer Quincy’s lips curved up even more. "In that case, your husband says he wants kisses."

...

The day the matching class uniforms were distributed was the last day of May. They must have been cheap, because the shirts had a foul odor.

Holly Winslow sniffed the shirt a couple of times and wrinkled her nose. "Quincy the Puppy, give me your shirt. I’ll wash them both this afternoon."

Quincy the Puppy didn’t hand his over. Instead, he took her shirt from her. "No need to trouble my dear wife with such a trivial matter."

"My wife just needs to lie back and relax."

Holly Winslow: "..."

She shot him a glare. "You old lech."

The "old lech" chuckled, shrugging innocently. "’Lie back and watch TV.’ How is that lecherous?"

"Hmm?"

"Where did your mind wander, my dear wife?"

The guy was clearly teasing her, so Holly Winslow decided to ignore him.

「That afternoon, after lunch, in the campus heartthrob’s dorm.」

The moment Pantheon and the others got back to the dorm, they saw a guy in a white T-shirt, black capri pants, and black flip-flops standing by the wash basin, scrubbing a class uniform.

Two of them, it seemed.

Pantheon: "..."

’He should’ve just gone straight back to the classroom with Zeke Zane.’

Boris Owens came out with his own uniform to wash. He glanced at Mortimer Quincy’s washbasin and said half-jokingly, "Didn’t know you were the type to do someone else’s laundry."

Mortimer Quincy gave him a flat look without a word. He wrung out the shirts and hung them up to dry. With the two shirts hanging side-by-side, he added, "Don’t touch them."

That look made Boris Owens feel strange. ’It was like he was looking at an idiot.’

Pantheon came out with his uniform and glanced up at the two matching shirts hanging there—one large, one small.

’Damn it.’

’Even the clothes are bullying a single guy like me.’

「On the afternoon of June 1st, all the senior classes were taking their graduation photos.」

The main group photo was taken by the stone statue at the entrance to Jarton High. It seemed the teachers had all coordinated, because every single senior class, without exception, was wearing the same matching uniforms.

The principal chuckled and said to the dean of students beside him, "This year’s class uniforms look great. The students look so full of life."

He then added, "Let’s have next year’s class dress like this too."

The dean explained, "They were modeled after a matching ’sibling set’ that Mortimer Quincy and Holly Winslow wore."

"No wonder they looked a bit familiar," the principal said, chuckling.

The Rocket Class was up first.

Mortimer Quincy was the tallest in the class and should have been in the back row. But in full view of everyone, he calmly positioned himself right behind Holly Winslow.

Holly felt a pang of guilt and glanced nervously at Gabe Chaucer and the principal. Then, worried they were blocking someone, she took Mortimer’s hand and pulled him over to the very end of the row.

A few of their classmates glanced over.

Gabe Chaucer saw them but didn’t say anything. As long as they weren’t blocking anyone else, it was fine.

He did, however, glance at Cynthia Owens, thinking, ’Mortimer isn’t very close with her. They’re almost never together.’

The photographer gestured for them to squeeze in closer. "Everyone, smile!"

Mortimer Quincy bent down slightly, leaning close to Holly Winslow’s ear. With the corners of his lips turned up in a slight smile, he whispered, "Honey."

Holly turned her head to look at him just as the camera’s flash went off. CLICK.

"..."

The photographer, likely in a hurry with more groups waiting, didn’t examine the photo closely or ask for a retake.

For a graduation photo, all that mattered was that everyone was in it; looks were secondary.

After the official group photo came free time for personal pictures. Gabe Chaucer returned everyone’s phones, letting them take photos with their friends around the school.

A crowd of students gathered on the athletic field, taking pictures in small groups of two, three, four, or five.

Mortimer Quincy handed his phone to the still-single Pantheon. "Take a picture for us."

Pantheon really didn’t want to, but he dutifully took the photo, looking at the incredibly good-looking couple on his screen.

’So damn jealous.’

Facing the camera, Holly quickly smoothed down some flyaway strands of hair. She then leaned her head against Mortimer, her eyes crinkling into crescents as she smiled at the lens.

Mortimer turned his head to look at her.

At first, the two on the screen were posing conventionally, but then Mortimer suddenly scooped Holly up into his arms. He jutted his chin toward Pantheon, signaling him to snap a picture.

There were lots of people on the field, and Holly’s face flushed red. She didn’t say anything, though, just turned her blushing face to the camera and smiled.

Pantheon: "..."

’Have they no consideration for a single guy like me?’

Once the photo was taken, Holly grabbed Mortimer and fled the field. The moment they were clear, she started tickling him, saying with mock-ferocity, "Are you trying to get an invitation for ’tea’ with the dean?"

Mortimer looked at the photos on his phone, extremely pleased with the one of him holding his wife. He put the phone in his pocket. "Nope."

"I want to go have ’tea’ with my wife at the Civil Affairs Bureau."

"Sweet, ’we just got married’ tea."

Holly Winslow: "..."