Chapter 248 Digging a Hole Deeper
"It's not what you're thinking, this tissue is indeed wet, but it's just sweat, feel it if you don't believe me!"
Ava stepped forward, offering the soaked tissue to them.
Alexander Mitchell, feeling helpless, looked down, cradling his throbbing forehead, shaking his head repeatedly.
"Don't come any closer." George pulled Mia behind him.
The couple reacted as if facing some terrifying beast. George spoke firmly, raising his hand, "You don’t need to explain your intimate issues to us. Just sort it out yourselves; we're going to head out."
"No, it's not like that, we really didn't do anything," Ava pleaded as she followed them, desperate, "Just touch it and you'll understand, it’s just water, not sticky at all. If you don’t believe me, check Alex’s pants; they're still perfectly on."
Alexander was speechless.
He wished he could find a mouse hole to crawl into, or dig one on the spot if necessary.
But where was a shovel when you needed one?
At the mention of the word "sticky," the couple quickened their pace as if fleeing a disaster.
Seeing Ava start to chase after them to explain, Alexander said, "Ava."
She stopped in her tracks and turned around, "What?"
"Just let them think what they want," he replied.
Ava frowned, "But they got it all wrong, it's not like that at all. Why won't you explain?"
"Better left unsaid, you realize the more you explain, the worse it sounds?" Ava Anderson found herself regretting her choice of words—a cascade of incendiary phrases spewing out with unintended connotations.
Even the most innocuous terms sounded scandalous now.
"I..." Ava's face stiffened as she recalled her recent outburst, further colored by the expressions on both their faces. Panic only added to her disarray.
Thrusting the damp cloth she'd used to dab at Alexander Mitchell's sweat back into his arms, Ava rubbed her palms vigorously down her dress, her glare fixed on Alexander, blaming him for the entire mishap.
Alexander couldn't help but smile at Ava's fiery temperament. This wasn't ridicule nor amusement; rather, he found comfort in the scene.
Even during the most harmonious days of their marriage, Ava rarely showed such sassy attitude. The current scene felt more intimate, more akin to a couple's interaction.
Though she was no longer his wife, Alexander didn't mind her displays of annoyance one bit.
Picking up the wadded-up tissue, he teased with a wicked grin, "Should we save this to let mom and dad feel whether it's refreshing or sticky?"
Ava's heart skipped a beat, her pulse racing. "Enough! I don't want to talk about this anymore. I'll go entertain your parents," she retorted.
"Entertain my parents?" Alexander's displeasure was evident. "They are your parents too."
"We're divorced," Ava said matter-of-factly, a wave of sorrow momentarily passing over her, "They are your parents, not mine. My parents are gone."
With that, she walked out of the room, leaving Alexander with a vanished smile and a furrowed brow.
Was she hurting again?
In the living room, Ava spotted George Mitchell attempting to engage Mia Thompson in conversation.
Mia sat on the sofa, tea in hand, appearing utterly indifferent to him.
George tirelessly tried to charm her, his attempts and expression perfectly encapsulating the term 'whipped.'
As George reached out to gently touch Mia's shoulder, she swatted his hand away with a slap, frowning and sharply rebuking, "Don't touch me."
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