"Ethan's point of view,"
"We have to gently open this box, Mrs. Woods. Inside this enclosure, anything can happen."
Before she opened the box, I warned her.
"Come on, Mr. Woods, stop acting like it has imprisoned a venomous snake in this box."
After all, how could she be so careless? Before beginning any task, shouldn't we consider every consequence that could occur? I questioned my subconscious. Yes, you are entirely correct.
Wow, I feel like my subconscious is with me; am I dreaming?
However, Stella is not doing anything wrong by taking the chance to open that box; after all, only by taking risks can one build a successful business.
Oh, I see now what my subconscious was trying to tell me.
I am too naïve to believe that, in Stella Parker's case specifically, my subconscious will back me up.
Have you seen how happy she is? Do you not get the impression from her appearance that she is excited to view this box as if she is holding some sort of hidden treasure? Observing her excitement, my male ego remarked. Yes, she is undoubtedly quite happy. However, based on her appearance, no one would assume that she was the leader of such a vast corporate empire. Instead, when I observe her pleasure, I picture a tiny, determined girl who is overjoyed that her wish has come true.
"Mr. Woods, Everything in this box is something we need." When I heard her voice, I awoke from my dream.
"True, but who brought this box here?" I scanned my immediate surroundings but did not notice anyone.
"After all, who placed this enigmatic box in this location?" I regarded the box with bewildered eyes.
"Your grandma sent us this box, Mr. Woods." She spoke in an indignant tone.
"My grandmother?" I gave her a startled look.
"Yes. We received yet another surprise this morning from your grandmother."
"What is the evidence that only this box was sent by my grandmother?"
How can she use my grandmother's name in such a way?
"Mr. Woods, last night I had a dream." She responded in a grating manner.
"Stella Parker, don't unnecessarily entangle my grandmother in these issues." Now that she hasn't responded honestly to my straightforward questions, I'm feeling upset with her.
"Ethan Woods, it would be better if you read this letter yourself rather than ranting to me pointlessly." As she handed me the letter, she stated,
"Stella and Ethan, my lovely children.
I hope you enjoyed my surprise and that your time together on the island is wonderful. While you're there, you'll both need a few things, which I've already packed in this box.
Both of my kids are talented architects, so I'm counting on you two to set up a nice place for you to stay while you're in that place. Spend a week there without worrying about getting off the island, as its central location in the water makes escape impossible. You two have a wonderful time on your honeymoon, and please don't worry about me at all.
And Ethan, my beautiful child, you grant all of your grandmother's wishes, so I want to feed your children on my lap before I pass away. Therefore, enjoy your honeymoon to the fullest so that Stella can inform me of her pregnancy as soon as you return.
Have a wonderful honeymoon.
Your beloved grandma."
Oh my God, what is going on here? I read the letter and then, in frustration, ran my fingers through my hair.
"Mr. Woods, would you like to say anything?" Her irate tone increased my frustration.
"Mrs. Woods, I assure you I was unaware of my grandmother's plan." I get the impression from the look on her face that she wants to blame me for the entire predicament.
"So this was a surprise from your grandmother. Without notifying us, she sent us to spend our honeymoon on this remote island." She emphasized the phrase "honeymoon" in her statement.
"Do you want me to tell your grandmother about my pregnancy as soon as I get back from here?
On her lap, she must feed our child."
"Mrs. Woods, take a deep breath."
"Mr. Woods, how can I calm down? You are to blame for all of this. Why did you feel the need to kiss me in front of everyone in the church with such passion?" She said this while pointing her finger at my chest.
"Why did you act like we were a highly passionate couple in front of everyone? When you first started calling me Mrs. Woods, you were having a great time making fun of me. And now that I've read the expectations your grandmother stated in this letter, I get the impression that the only way she will rest easy is if she makes me Mrs. Woods."
She keeps talking nonstop. I don't think she's taken a breath during her lecture. She is maintaining one hand on her waist and directs her index finger at me. I have an image of a strict school teacher when I see her now.
"Mrs. Woods, I meant Miss Parker." Her irritability is at its peak right now, and it can be concerning for me if she continues to become upset.
"Now, what?" She rolled her eyes as she asked.
"Have you considered how we will survive for a full week on this island? We simply cannot spend a week on that swing."
"Swing. Obviously, how can we leave without talking about something so important?Mr. Woods, do you have anything to say about what you did last night?"
Oh, no, that shows that she discovered I touched her lips.
I've already warned you, but when do you ever pay attention? Instantly, my subconscious was making fun of me.
Please stand by me in this circumstance rather than mock me.
"I did nothing like this; it was all your fault." I pinned the entire responsibility on her out of panic.
"Oh?
Without my consent, you touched a tender spot on my body." She is constantly taking steps in my direction, and I am stepping backward to escape her.
"Sensitive part?" I asked in a perplexed tone. It's clear that she was awake and paying attention to my every move that morning, but I'll never admit in her presence that I touched her.
What was the necessity for me to perform such bizarre things, though?
"Without my consent, you touched my waist."
So her waist is the most delicate area of her body, I see.
"No, I didn't mean to touch you, but I had to keep my hand on your waist to adjust it because there wasn't much room on the swing."
Why is she being so domineering right now, and why am I letting myself be so easily dominated?
What exactly is going on with me? When I introduce myself as Ethan Woods, people frequently have dry mouths and throats. This ordinary girl is interrogating me as if I were a criminal.
You keep forgetting that you are dealing with Stella Parker, who has already shown you face of defeat since she is not a typical girl. Once more, my mighty subconscious informed me of Stella's advantages.
"You kissed me this morning. Why? You can't be too flirtatious with me, Mr. Woods." This girl is accusing me of making charges, yet I am moving backward rather than disputing her claims.
"In the morning, you also called me your husband. You slept soundly the entire night with your head on mine. It was you who suggested that we share the hammock. Have you forgotten that last night you begged me to forget our agreement? Why don't you own up to your error instead of blaming me?"
If I go any further behind it, I'll surely end up in the ocean.
"You are my wife, and I have complete authority over you, Mrs. Woods. If you continue to bombard me with inquiries like this, I will try to carry out all of my grandmother's demands in the letter as quickly as possible."
I've been putting up with her temper outbursts for a while, and now my male ego takes full control.