Tiffany patted him on the leg, mimicking one of his habits. “Go ahead.”
He felt slightly depressed. In this state, he looked a lot like a boy toy...
The next morning, Arianne brought Aristotle and Mark out of the house. It was time for Aristotle’s injection. The weather had grown unstable lately, and it was easy to catch a cold. It drizzled last night. She had given Aristotle an extra layer in the form of a long-sleeved shirt, covering his fair and tender arms and legs altogether. He looked even plumper, like a round ball, even cuter.
After getting into the car, Mark checked the time on his watch then said to Brian, who was in the driver’s seat, “Take them to the hospital first. You go with them. I’ll drive to the office. Tell Henry to pick them up when they’re done.”
Arianne frowned. “Do you have something urgent? Aren’t you coming to the hospital with us?”
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