Chapter 61 The Fog of Memory

In all these years of marriage, Yvonne had never addressed him so affectionately. Previously, his cold demeanor had made her wary of crossing that boundary. Now, she was unwilling. Drunken and dazed, her body was soft and her voice gentler than usual, carrying an irresistible allure to his ears. “What did you call me?” he murmured, holding her waist lightly. “Husband, aren't we married?” she whispered, her cheek against his neck, her smile filled with satisfaction. Benson gazed down at her, recalling the day they got their marriage certificate when she had smiled the same way. He draped a coat over her, carefully picked her up, and walked out of the noisy private room. The cold wind was biting, and Yvonne's foggy mind cleared a little. Opening her eyes, she saw Benson's tight jawline, which seemed particularly sharp. Is this... like when we first got married? Her thoughts were a bit muddled, and her eyes hurt. She closed them again for some comfort. Once in the car, Benson