The suitcase was stuffed with lacy underwear, bras and a few other weird looking netted things, he had no idea what they were.
"Andrew, dad messaged me earlier. He wants us to drop by for dinner this weekend." When he did not say anything, Rachael called him out again. "Andrew?"
Andrew on the other hand was stuck in a very awkward situation which he had never imagined to encounter. With his mouth slightly open, he was staring at the pile of velvety, silky pairs of undergarments, which he could bet were super soft and delicate to touch.
Retracting his hand back, he frowned at himself. He was staring at his wife's underpants like a pervert and was even considering touching them? What the hell was wrong with him?
'You are better than this Andrew,' he reminded himself.
But what was he supposed to do now? Pick everything up and pass it to Rachael? Was he even allowed to touch them?