Startled from her reverie, Rena sat upright, reaching up to touch her face, a trickle of chilly tears adorning the corners of her eyes.

By the bedroom entrance, Waylen held a tray of breakfast. Witnessing Rena's tears, he asked hoarsely, "What troubles you, my dear?"

Approaching her side, he gently placed the tray on the bedside table, caressing her forehead and reassured, "It's not that warm anymore.”

Rena gazed intently at him, her nose slightly flushed.

Her pitiful countenance concerned Waylen, and he murmured, "Please don't look at me like that; you know | have no control of myself whenever you look at me like that."

Trembling lips kept Rena from mustering the courage to voice her query.

Gradually, she regained composure and inquired, "Why have you come here?"

Waylen positioned a pillow behind her waist and tried to feed her some broth, but she declined and took the spoon to eat by herself, only realizing after two spoonfuls that she realized she had forgotten to brush her teeth.

Her inadvertence struck him as adorable, prompting Waylen to pinch her cheek tenderly.

"Consider this a special case; | can afford to be lenient with you," he remarked.

Rena shook her head and pushed the tray away, admitting, "I have no appetite.”

Yet, she still yearned to ask why he was here.

Leaning in close, Waylen's striking face nearly touching hers, their breaths intertwined as he gazed into her eyes, asking gently, "Is divorce truly the solution? You're unwell and you're struggling to face it alone.”

An urge to withdraw surged within Rena but Waylen's arm wrapped around her slender waist, holding her in place.

He caressed her softly, devoid of any carnal intentions; he merely sought her presence.

Though Waylen's charm and tenderness were difficult for Rena to resist, she remained steadfast.

"| can find someone else to take care of me,’ she insisted.

"Like who? Hector? Or that toy boy named Shelton? ... Rena, do they truly compare to me in your heart? If they were better, why did you turn them both down?" Waylen inquired, exerting pressure on her, causing her breath to waver.

The unsettling sensation of nausea returned and Waylen noticed her distress. Loosening his grip, he handed her some water and medicine.

‘Sweat beads formed on Rena's forehead as she recalled her appointment with a client later in the day to survey a piece of land.

Waylen urged her gently, "Prioritize your recovery. I'll go in your stead.”

Taken aback, Rena remained speechless as a knock resounded at the door, revealing Hector's voice on the other side.