Sweet Mischief’s Rollercoaster Romance novel Chapter 911

Andre took a quick glance at the bagel and scrambled eggs on his wife's lap. With one hand, he rolled the egg on the steering wheel, tapping it all around until the shell cracked, making it easy to peel. He handed it to his wife, saying, "Just toss the trash in my cup holder, I'll get rid of it when we stop. Go ahead and eat, make sure you're full before you get mad at me again."

Mia pouted, took the egg, peeled it, and placed the shell on a napkin. She then neatly tucked the wrapped trash into the cupholder where Andre usually kept his water bottle.

"I don't want the yolk."

Andre replied, "I'll eat it for you."

Mia split the egg and fed her husband the yolk while she quickly ate the whites.

Andre gently coaxed her, "What do you want for lunch? I can have the housekeeper bring it over."

"I'll just order takeout with my classmates."

"Have something decent, not just spicy soup, fried ramen, or burgers..."

Mia pretended not to hear.

As they neared the exam prep center, Andre, as usual, parked by the roadside, watching his wife hop out with her backpack. He couldn’t help himself, "Cross the street carefully, text me when you arrive, don't panic in class, eat well, drink lots of water. I put some fruit in your backpack this morning; it's washed and ready..."

"I know, I know, you're my husband, not my parents," Mia said, clearly annoyed.

Indeed, girls studying for exams could be as fierce as dinosaurs.

Andre dared not show any temper.

He didn’t understand how he, the one who usually lost his temper at others, had ended up being scolded by his young wife after getting married.

Watching her cross the street, running over the crosswalk, Andre's heart was in his throat, not even knowing what he was so nervous about.

Once she was out of sight, Andre waited another five minutes before hurrying back. He had to drop off their eldest at school and there was still their youngest at home, probably still asleep. The housekeeper wouldn’t dare enter their bedroom, worried the little one might roll off the bed after waking up.

On his way home, Andre noticed a delivery truck advertising milk.

Suddenly, he remembered something and made a detour to a supermarket that was already open. He pointed at a case of whole milk and said, "I'll take two cases."

When Andre got home with the milk, Bruce had just woken up and asked, "Andre, who’s all this milk for?"

"For Mia," Andre handed the milk to the housekeeper, explaining to his brother, "Mia skips breakfast because she always says there's not enough time. From now on, have the housekeeper warm up a bottle of milk for her every morning to take on the road."

The housekeeper nodded and took the milk to the kitchen.

Andre then rushed upstairs, "I wonder if Henry is awake yet. I put pillows on both sides for him, but he's gotten good at crawling over them."

In the bedroom, Henry was still nestled between his parents' pillows, sleeping soundly, perhaps comforted by their scent.

Around eight, the little one was woken up by his dad, and Anya came out of the bedroom.

"Morning, Uncle."

Andre, carrying the now soothed bundle of joy downstairs, held his son's little leg as Henry clutched his milk bottle. The differences in parenting were glaring even in how they washed faces.

Mia washed Henry's face so that his clothes remained dry, his hair too, and after washing his face, she even applied lotion.

When dad washed his son's face, he simply turned on the tap and scrubbed over his face with his large hand, Henry not daring to open his eyes. In the end, dad had to use his wet hand to rub over his hair again. No lotion was applied, with dad saying, "Boys need to be tough, no fussing."

"Strange, it was fine this morning. What's going on?" Mia's thoughts drifted during the lesson, wondering why her eyelid was twitching.

A classmate shook her while taking notes, "Mia, take notes."

"Oh, right." Mia quickly grabbed her pen, looked at the blackboard, clueless about what to note down, then turned to see what her classmate was writing.

During lunch break, her female deskmate Jamie asked Mia, "What were you daydreaming about during the class? You looked distracted."

Mia replied, "My right eyelid was twitching. I wonder what bad thing I've done now."

The student behind them, Denny, also laughed, "Mia, you're so cute. Why would a twitching right eyelid mean you've done something bad?"

Mia felt a bit embarrassed, not sure why, even though they were all of similar age, some even older, when they called her "cute," Mia felt like they were all "little kids."

Perhaps it was because she's a mother, the term "cute" she reserved only for describing her adorable, chubby son.

“By the way, what do we want for lunch? Let's order some delivery,” Denny suggested.

Jamie nodded, “Sounds good. Mia, do you want to go out for lunch, or shall we order delivery to eat in the lounge?”

Mia remembered her husband's cautioning that morning, “Delivery!”

“What should we order?”

The rebellious wife chimed in, “Spicy salad!” If she couldn’t have her spicy hot pot, then a spicy salad it would be.