Henry swore to himself that he would win over Fatima.
Their recent intimate moment on the grass, where they had done nearly everything but make love, was the reason their clothes were disheveled, not because of any hardships in the Death Realm.
But these were details he felt unnecessary to explain.
"Alright, you old man, can't you see our heroes are tired? Let them sit down instead of going on and on," an old lady hooked to an IV drip scolded the old man sternly.
The old man deflated instantly, muttering under his breath, "Nagging old woman."
Then he leaned towards Henry and whispered,
"See? That's the fate of marriage. I suggest you delay it as long as possible. It's okay to have a few partners, but once you're tied down, you're constantly under someone else's thumb."
Henry nodded in agreement, replying, "I'll take your advice, sir."