Amanda Smith took a deep breath, her dark eyes shifting as she looked at Donald Johnson. After a moment, she seemed to smile.
But that smile on her face was as cold as the frost flowers that bloom in snowy fields.
"I'm not worried," she shook her head, "we'll just do as he said." She paused, a hint of ruthlessness in her eyes, "Even if we don't get married, it doesn't matter."
It really doesn't matter.
She thought coldly.
It's as if she was begging him to marry her, so what if it's postponed or cancelled? What's the big deal?
By herself, she had managed all these years, not afraid of not being able to support Lily Smith.
"You..." Donald Johnson knew Amanda Smith was angry when he heard her speak. He sighed, stood up from the dining table, and said, "Don't be angry, I'll go talk to him. That kid is becoming more and more unreasonable. I'll go discipline him."
Saying so, he left the dining table and walked in the direction Samuel Johnson had gone.
