Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back!

The evening chill nipped at her skin, even through her thick coat. She shivered, feeling the cold bite through her layers.

"Hey boss, should I return this dress to you?"

The evening gown was something Austin had picked out, a high-end brand that couldn't have come cheap. But considering she had already worn it, it didn't seem like he could do much with it now.

"No need."

Scoring a free dress and getting fed for the night, Joy flashed him a heart with her hands, laying it on thick, "Boss, you're the most generous guy in the whole world."

Austin shot back, "It's coming out of your paycheck."

"What?!" There it was, the heartless capitalist showing his true colors. Joy's expression flipped faster than a pancake. "I accompanied you without even getting overtime, and now you want me to pay for the dress? That's just low."

He looked at her, a flicker of amusement in his eyes, probably guessing the string of insults she was hurling at him in her mind. "You've eaten more tonight than any overtime could cover."

"I'll clean the dress and return it to you, okay? Not a penny coming from me!"

Inside, Joy was crafting a list of curses aimed at him. As she navigated the steps, still mentally berating him, she missed her footing and stumbled forward.

"Shoot!" she exclaimed as Austin turned around at the noise, instinctively reaching out to catch her.

Her flailing hands found his, but it was too late. Thankfully, the stairs weren't high, and she landed on her knees.

Clutching onto Austin, she ended up in a bizarre pose, kneeling before him as if in some medieval court.

To ease the awkwardness, she quipped, "... Your grace."

"Rise," he said, barely holding back a chuckle.

Joy cursed under her breath, muttering about his nerve to find humor in the situation.

Austin helped her up. "Did you hurt yourself?"

She dramatically lifted the dress to show a tiny scrape on her knee. "Does this count as a workplace injury?"

He inspected the minor wound, which would heal soon enough.

Bending down, he effortlessly lifted Joy into his arms.

She was taken aback, her eyes wide. "Wha-what are you doing?"

"Wha-what am I doing?" Austin echoed, looking down at her. "What's wrong?"

Joy was speechless. Being carried like a princess in a romance novel was one thing, but by her boss? She was squirming like a monkey infested with fleas.

Austin placed her in the car, and for a moment, she breathed a sigh of relief. That one carry had probably shaved days off her life.

Showing a rare moment of

conscience, Austin drove to a 24-hour pharmacy, got out, and returned with some supplies. He cleaned the scrape with saline and applied some ointment.

He made sure to drop her off right at her doorstep, which Joy had half-expected by then, secretly wondering if she could squeeze some sort of compensation out of the situation.

But knowing Austin, she was lucky if he didn't deduct the cost of the dress from her salary.

She let it go.

The next morning, as she stood outside her apartment, she couldn't believe her eyes when she saw Austin's sleek, black SUV parked there.

Austin stepped out, opened the door for her, and glanced at her knee, "Need help getting in?"

Joy's gaze shifted from the

luxurious SUV back to him, looking

as if she

was staring at a madman.

Pointing from the car to herself, she

asked, "You're picking me up?"

"It's a workplace injury, isn't it?" Austin stated. "Shouldn't I, as your boss, take responsibility?"

Internally, Joy rolled her eyes. Who needed him to play chauffeur when he could just compensate with cash?This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

But then again, it was a ride in that luxurious SUV. Even if her legs were broken, she'd crawl to get in.