Chapter 746: What Should I Do If I’m Accidentally Too Happy?

Chapter 746: Chapter 746: What Should I Do If I’m Accidentally Too Happy?

Claire was distracted, picking at her white rice one grain at a time, her face filled with melancholy.

Mrs. Quincy couldn’t help but speak up. "Claire, why aren’t you eating any of the other dishes? Is the food not to your liking?"

Claire Sinclair shook her head. "No, no, I’m just not very hungry."

Just as she finished speaking, the sound of a key turning in the lock suddenly came from the door.

Claire Sinclair’s heart leaped with joy. "Adrian must be back!"

With that, she put down her chopsticks and excitedly ran to the door to greet him.

The door opened, and sure enough, it was the man she had been longing for. With hardly a second thought, she threw her arms open and pulled him into a tight embrace, her body trembling slightly with excitement.

Adrian Quincy was startled for a moment, then he gently wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Claire, what’s wrong?"

Claire Sinclair shook her head against his chest, not saying a word.

Mrs. Quincy called out from across the room, teasing her, "Adrian, Claire missed you so much she couldn’t even eat."

Claire Sinclair’s face flushed. She looked up at him quickly and said in a small voice, "I just missed you. It’s your fault for not coming home for so long."

The corners of Adrian Quincy’s lips tilted up. "Do you want to come abroad with me?"

Without a moment’s hesitation, Claire Sinclair shook her head decisively. "No."

"Then what are we going to do about you not being able to eat when you miss me?"

"Then I’ll just keep getting thinner. When you’re not home, I just can’t eat."

"Claire, don’t be like that." Adrian Quincy’s heart ached for her. He took her hand and led her back to the dining room, then gently settled her back into her chair. He slowly leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Wait for me, I’m going to wash my hands."

Anyone who didn’t know better would have thought he was whispering some unspeakable sweet nothings.

Claire Sinclair’s face was red, not from shyness, but from happiness.

’He’s back. It feels like the clouds have parted and the sun is out.’

After waiting for a long time, the man who said he was going to wash his hands still hadn’t emerged. Instead, the sound of him on the phone came from the bathroom, speaking in some foreign language, clearly discussing business.

Claire Sinclair raised an eyebrow. ’That guy...’

Unable to take it anymore, she stood up abruptly, walked to the bathroom door, and knocked. "Adrian, are you done yet?"

The moment she spoke, the door opened. Adrian Quincy walked out, wrapped one arm around her slender waist, and naturally bent down to kiss her between the eyebrows before leading her back to the dining room.

By the time the two of them returned to the dining table, Adrian Quincy had ended his call.

Claire Sinclair immediately piled his bowl high with food, her intent to punish him obvious. "Adrian, you have to eat all of this before we can leave. Otherwise, I’m not going with you."

Adrian Quincy looked at the small mountain of food overflowing from his bowl and smiled. "Alright, I’ll eat it all."

Claire Sinclair huffed triumphantly, then broke into a smile.

’What am I supposed to do, being this happy?’

Hehe...

After dinner, the couple went to the nursery to check on the baby, only then leaving the house with their minds at ease.

Although it wasn’t her first time going to The Presidential Palace, Claire Sinclair felt a little nervous. The Presidential Palace was his residence now, and it was leagues above Quincy Manor.

For some reason, her heart was filled with anticipation.

As the car slowly drove into The Presidential Palace, Claire Sinclair immediately felt an innate sacredness in the air—solemn and mysterious, noble and elegant.

A residence like this seemed as if it were tailor-made for him, a perfect match for his aura.

As he held her hand and walked through the main hall, she felt as if she had been transported to an ancient palace, with officials on both sides bowing in submission. The atmosphere was solemn and austere, majestic and imposing.

’This feeling is so magical.’

After walking for a few minutes, they finally entered The West Court—the president’s private living quarters.