Reborn with My Genius Husband

Chapter 213: Her 7th Wedding Anniversary with Mortimer Quincy

Holly pushed them back toward her, saying earnestly, "We’ve already had some. Aunt Roland, if you don’t drink this, it’ll just go to waste."

Robin Roland hesitated for a moment before accepting them. She then quickly fumbled in her pocket. "How much are they? Let me pay you."

"Then how much was dinner? We should be paying you, Aunt Roland." Holly Winslow winked, signaling for her not to be so formal.

Robin Roland smiled and didn’t press the issue.

So as not to waste time, they finished eating in just over ten minutes. Holly Winslow began teaching English to Yara Nolan, while Mortimer Quincy sat nearby, listening to a lecture on his phone.

In the living room, Robin Roland put on her new reading glasses and leaned in close to assemble electronic components—from one, to a dozen, to over a hundred.

The time on the wall clock slid from nine-forty to eleven.

In over an hour, she earned seven or eight yuan.

Bedroom

Having just finished going over an English practice test, Holly Winslow shook her head to ease the stiffness in her neck. She reminded Yara Nolan, "Review the grammar points on your own time. Your vocabulary is already quite strong."

Yara Nolan nodded earnestly. "Thank you, Teacher Winslow."

Noticing him glance at Mortimer Quincy, obviously with a question in mind, Holly Winslow smiled. She reached over and took off Mortimer Quincy’s headphones. "Hey, genius, care to explain a problem for us?"

Mortimer Quincy glanced at her, the corners of his mouth lifting into a fond smile. "Of course," he said indulgently.

He then stood up and took Holly Winslow’s former seat to explain a math problem to Yara Nolan, with Holly listening in from the side.

Perhaps because they hadn’t come out yet, Robin Roland peeked inside. When she saw Mortimer Quincy tutoring Yara Nolan, a complicated look flickered in her eyes.

It was already half-past eleven when they left the Roland family’s home. By this time, the buses had stopped running, and there were no taxis in sight.

Luckily, it wasn’t far, so the two of them walked home hand in hand.

The moment they got home, Holly Winslow went to grab clothes for them both to shower, while Mortimer Quincy headed to the bathroom to run the hot water.

It was a silent understanding they had cultivated over many years of marriage, no words needed.

Their wardrobe was divided, with each of them having their own side to make finding things easier.

Holly Winslow couldn’t find Mortimer Quincy’s pajama pants, so she started searching her own side of the wardrobe. Sure enough, there they were.

She shouted towards the other room, "Honey, you put your pajama pants on my side again! I keep telling you, we each have our own side, or I can’t find anything!"

Mortimer Quincy walked in and shrugged innocently. "Darling, they ran over there all by themselves."

Holly Winslow irritably shoved the pajamas at him. "Oh, so they have feet now? Don’t do it again."

"Alright," Mortimer Quincy agreed cheerily.

’As if I’d believe him.’ It had been like this for years. "If you do it again, I’m stuffing *you* in the wardrobe. I’m showering first, you can go after."

With that, she grabbed her clothes, dashed into the bathroom, and quickly bolted the door.

Behind her, Mortimer Quincy raised an eyebrow, walked over to the bedside table, and pulled a key out of the drawer.

Hearing the sound of the lock turning, Holly Winslow, already in the tub, fell silent.

The next second, the door swung open. Mortimer Quincy walked in, clothes in hand. He began undressing as he said in a low, teasing voice, "Darling, should you be screaming for help?"

Holly Winslow was speechless.

She put on a show, crying out softly, "Ah, help me!"

After her little performance, she shot him a look. "Was that good enough? If not, I can scream a bit louder."

Mortimer Quincy chuckled, amused. He slipped into the tub, and his hands began to wander. "Come on, let your husband give you a bath."

"And once we’re all clean, we can get down to business."

Holly Winslow was at a loss for words.

...

「Saturday」

Mortimer Quincy had gone to work, and Holly Winslow was curled up at home with a book. She suddenly got a call. It was Sophia Zane, asking if she would resume tutoring Chloe Hollis.

If she weren’t already tutoring Yara Nolan, she might have said yes. She technically had the time, but she also needed to prepare for her lessons and keep up with her own studies.

She hesitated for a moment before declining. "Ms. Zane, I’m afraid I can’t. I’ve already taken on another tutoring student."

Sophia Zane sounded a little disappointed. She explained, "It was actually Cece who asked for you. This is the first time she’s ever shown any initiative about wanting to study."

"We can pay you double your usual rate. Would that work for you?"

Hearing that Chloe Hollis herself had asked, Holly hesitated. In the end, she agreed. "Ms. Zane, the previous rate is fine."

By the time she hung up, it was already past nine. She gathered her teaching materials and headed over to the Hollis family’s home.

When Chloe Hollis saw her, she seemed a bit sheepish. She greeted her politely and then listened to the lesson with surprising diligence.

Holly felt a teacher’s sense of pride and explained the material in even greater detail. She had lunch at the Hollis’s and headed home at four in the afternoon.

Back home, a wave of lethargy washed over her. She flopped onto the sofa to laze around for a bit and looked up a popular new horror movie to watch.

Mortimer Quincy returned home before six.

The first thing he saw was the monster’s face magnified on the TV screen. He was speechless.

He turned to look at his wife on the sofa, who still hadn’t noticed him. Her eyes were wide, and she looked so engrossed that if a real ghost were to appear, she’d probably try to poke it.

He quietly closed the door and sat down beside her. Holly belatedly glanced over. Just imagine: you’re watching a horror movie when, out of nowhere, someone sits down right next to you.

It’s genuinely more terrifying than the movie itself.

She let out an involuntary "AH!" and threw the pillow she was holding.

Thankfully, Mortimer Quincy had quick reflexes and caught the pillow. He looked at her with a wounded expression. "Darling, am I really that terrifying?"

Holly snapped out of it, snorted, and nudged his thigh with her foot. "Quincy the Puppy, you should count yourself lucky I didn’t actually kick you."

"So violent, are we?"

Mortimer Quincy slung a long arm around her, leaned in for a hard kiss, and added, "If it were me, I’d be pinning the ’ghost’ down."

Holly Winslow was speechless.

’In your dreams!’

"Why are you home so early today?"

"I’m taking my wife to the movies."

Mortimer Quincy pulled two tickets out of his pocket. "The movie’s not until nine, so we still have two hours. Darling, want to change and go out for a nice dinner?"

Holly giggled, then hopped up, slipped on her slippers, and bounced toward the bedroom. "I’ll go get changed!"

Halfway through dinner, Holly saw Mortimer Quincy take a call. He pursed his lips, looking a little displeased. When he hung up, she asked, "Honey, what’s wrong?"

Mortimer Quincy replied glumly, "I have to head out to the site."

Holly wasn’t upset. That’s just how work was—when the boss calls, you have to go. "Go on, honey. I’ll be fine. I’ll just take the bus home after I finish eating and text you when I’m back."

Mortimer Quincy grunted in acknowledgment. "Darling, I’m sorry."

"It’s fine."

Holly said with a beaming smile. After he left, she continued to eat at a leisurely pace. Partway through her meal, a waiter approached her table. "Ma’am, congratulations! You are our restaurant’s nine hundred and ninety-ninth customer. This cake is on the house."

Holly froze for a second, wondering if it was a scam. ’A way to trick customers into paying more?’ She and Mortimer had run into a similar situation before. If Mortimer hadn’t been a lawyer, they would have been forced to pay over three hundred yuan extra.

She waved her hand dismissively. "No, thank you. I don’t need it."

The waiter’s smile faltered for a second as he recalled the gentleman’s instructions. "Ma’am, it’s completely free of charge. We won’t bill you for anything. In fact, your entire meal tonight is on us as well."

"Oh. Well, you can just leave it here, then."

Holly was still skeptical. Once the waiter left, she pulled out her phone and texted Mortimer: *Honey, the waiter said I’m the 999th customer and gave me a free cake. You think it’s a scam?*

Mortimer replied instantly: *It’s not. Go ahead and eat it.*

Holly trusted Mortimer more than she trusted herself. She lifted the lid of the cake box. On top of the cake was a number: seven.

Seven...

Their seventh wedding anniversary.