Unconscious Husband: Meet Her Love In Silence by Ken Slaner

Chapter: 668
A knock interrupted her thoughts. Hastily wiping her tears, she instinctively hid the report beneath her blanket and said, “Come
in.”
Ariana anticipated a nurse or perhaps Horace. So, when a familiar figure appeared, she was genuinely surprised.
It was Theodore.
She stared at him in surprise.
It wasn’t his presence that startled her, but rather the fact that Theodore did not break in without her permission. He usually
would employ a courtesy knock before entering. This time, however, he waited patiently outside, demonstrating an unusual level
of respect for her response.
The sight of Theodore made Ariana feel a sudden discomfort. Instinctively, she held onto her blanket a little tighter, her emotions
swirling as she met his gaze.
Their exchanges had been cold, with their argument still hanging in the air. But after experiencing such danger and being
rescued by Theodore like a personal savior, how could she remain unaffected?
Suddenly, Ariana was unsure of how to face this man standing before her.
She averted her gaze, evading his eyes, and whispered, “Horace mentioned you were busy.”
“Uh-huh,” Theodore responded with a muffled hum, moving towards her, “Horace mentioned you were looking for me?”

Ariana didn’t answer immediately, which made him slightly uneasy. He paused, his hand balling into a fist behind his back.
Did Horace get it wrong? Did she not wish to see him?
This possibility made his heart heavy.
Just as he began to think she’d deny his claim, a faint “uh-huh” filled his ears.
The sound was subtle, yet unmistakably clear.
Theodore immediately loosened his tight grip, heaved a sigh of relief, and, with a heart lightened, continued his approach.
Drawing nearer, he caught sight of the remnants of dried tears on Ariana’s face.
His relief was swiftly replaced with concern. His hand instinctively cradled her face, his voice a shade colder, “Why have you
been shedding tears? Who hurt you?”
Theodore’s hands lacked delicacy, bearing the marks of years spent in the realm of public affairs and physical training. A thin
layer of calluses graced the pads of his fingers and the base of his thumbs. As those rough hands made contact with Ariana’s
smooth face, a tingling sensation coursed through her.
At the sound of his question, a ripple disrupted the peace within Ariana’s heart.
Particularly, the large hands caressing her cheeks imparted a profound sense of safety, yet it also unleashed an uncontrollable
cascade of tears.

Before Ariana could utter a word, tears spilled down her cheeks, descending in solitary drops. Contemplating the children
growing within her belly, with the man before her as the main culprit, she suddenly voiced her grievance, imbued with a sense of
injustice: “It’s always you, from the very beginning to the bitter end. You’ve been tormenting me relentlessly. Ever since I married
you, every tear I’ve shed has been because of you.”