Chapter 152 Nothing Worth Seeing

• Shawn set down his utensils, stood up, walked over to the wine cabinet nearby, and pulled out a bottle. He poured himself half a glass, took a slow sip, then looked at me with a calm, unreadable gaze. "Tiffany, tell me—what kind of man do you think your husband is?"
• "A living, breathing male," I replied dryly.
• That actually made him laugh. "You've gotten a lot more talkative lately," he said with a hint of amusement. "And more sarcastic too."