Nina's confusion deepened, but before she could press him further, another thought struck her. It sent a wave of panic through her chest. Her eyes widened as she turned to him. Her voice was a hushed whisper.
"Kafka!…My husband definitely knows about us now!"
Kafka raised an eyebrow. The smirk never left his face. "Oh? And?"
"And?" Nina repeated. Her voice rose slightly in alarm. "Kafka, he's my husband. What if he does something? What if he tells someone? What are we supposed to do?!"
Kafka leaned back in his chair. He let out a casual sigh as if nothing in the world could trouble him. "Nina.." He finally said lightly. "You're overthinking this...Your husband isn't going to say a word."
Nina frowned, still uneasy. "How can you be so sure, Kafka? He's my husband—well, technically—and if he's upset, he might do something."
