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

After deciding on the match, Phillip's grandmother declared she was tired and had Sarah escort her back to her room for some rest.

Tina was left alone in the garden, well, not entirely alone - the table still held photos of the women who didn't make the cut.

She admitted to herself, perhaps a bit begrudgingly, that her judgments had been harsh and petty. After all, anyone considered by Mary to be a suitable match for her grandson had to be exceptional. Especially the one ultimately chosen - a lady of grace and elegance, seemingly born to be the matriarch of the Richardson household.

Unable to contain herself, Tina messaged Phillip in the early evening.

"Free for dinner tonight, big bro?"

Phillip replied ten minutes later: "Busy tonight."

Fine. Just fine.

Phillip came home late.

Tina was lying on her bed, gaming, glancing at the clock more times than she cared to admit, until finally, around ten, she heard Phillip's car pull into the driveway.

She muttered under her breath, "What kind of dinner lasts until now?"

Her friend, speaking through the headset, teased, "Must've been more than just dinner, right? Maybe a movie, a walk... isn't that how these dates usually go?"

"He doesn't like movies," Tina retorted.

"How do you know? Did he tell you?" her friend doubted, "You've never watched a movie with him. Maybe he enjoys them but never had a chance with you around, always trying to get a bite of him." Tina choked on her words, "Whose side are you on?"

"I'm on the side of justice!" her friend declared triumphantly.

"Justice, my foot."

Tina got up and peered out the window, seeing Phillip's black car in the driveway. He looked up towards her window.

The room was bathed in a warm, amber light, and after a moment, she turned away from the window.

The sound of footsteps on the

wooden staircase grew louder as Phillip made his way up. Tina turned off her mic and exited the game, listening to the steady pace of his approach.

Phillip's room was on the opposite side, but his footsteps halted right outside her door.

Then, a gentle knock: tap, tap.

She went to the door and opened it to find Phillip standing there, dressed sharply in a dark suit: "Haven't gone to bed yet?"Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

Without a word, Tina hooked her

finger on his tie, pulling him into her

room, swiftly shutting the door

behind them and pushing him

against it. She tiptoed to meet his lips in a swift, fluid motion.

Phillip set aside what he was

carrying on a chest near the door et

his hands finding her waist as he spun her around against the door, leaning in for a deeper kiss.

Despite knowing his family downstairs wouldn't come up, there was a thrilling secrecy to their embrace.

After a moment, Phillip released her, and amid their ragged breaths, they shared a look - intense and entwined.

Phillip leaned in again, kissing her gently. Tina, arms wrapped around his neck, asked out of nowhere, "Was the dinner good?" "Not bad," Phillip replied, "Brought you some gelato, pistachio."

Tina glanced at the takeaway box on the chest, wondering if the ice cream had melted yet.

"Didn't the person you shared dinner with mind you getting dessert for someone else?" she asked, a hint of sourness in her tone.

Phillip, catching the undercurrent, looked at her quizzically: "Not at all."

Tina thought, how tactful of you.

"And what's the verdict?" she prodded.

"What verdict?" Phillip asked.

"Did you like the person you had dinner with?"

"I mean, there's no dislike."

Tina felt a twinge of discomfort at his words. In her mind, a man's lack of dislike for a woman often meant an eighty percent chance of something more.