"Enough, Juliet!" Jean's eyes turned cold and his tone became firm, "This isn't your playground."
"Can you stop making a scene regardless of the situation?!"
Jean forcefully pushed me away.
I was unprepared and stumbled, my lower back hitting the corner of a table, causing a dull pain that made me frown.
A flicker of guilt flashed in Jean's eyes and he was about to help me, but Gwen stepped forward first.
She cried and explained to me, "Juliet, there's nothing between me and Jean. He just felt sorry for me and wanted to help me, but we were framed and accused of prostitution.”
“You've been with him for so many years. Don't you know what kind of person he is?"
She cried louder and more miserably, as if she had suffered a great injustice and said to me, "If I were you, I would never let my husband lose face in public.”
"Even if there's something wrong, can't you talk about it when you get home? Why do you have to embarrass him in front of everyone? Don't you know that a man cares most about his pride?"
Gwen’s crying moved Jean and the heartache and hesitation in his eyes instantly turned into coldness.