Rena refrained from passing judgment on their marriage, understanding that perhaps many women, Like Vera, would choose to forgive and move forward for this was how life worked.

Engrossed in her work for several days, Rena nearly forgot about

Waylen. Their contact had become infrequent.

As evening fell this day, Rena returned to their apartment.

To her surprise, the lights in the living room were aglow. Rena quickened her pace, taking a few steps closer.

And indeed, Waylen had returned.

Seated on the sofa, he engaged in a phone conversation, a suitcase positioned beside him. It was clear that he had just arrived home.

Waylen's gaze locked onto Rena’s figure.

He offered a gentle wave in her direction.

Rena slipped off her shoes and settled down beside him. With phone in hand, Waylen delved into a discussion about business matters while tenderly brushing against her body with his other hand.

His eyes remained fixated on her face, captivated by her presence.

Rena hadn't seen Waylen in days.

Being held in his arms, she couldn't help but feel extremely happy and contented.

She stretched out her hand and gently pressed the back of her palm against his forehead, only to find out that he was warm to the touch.

She bit her Lip worriedly.

He had obviously worked himself to the bone these days.

Rena traced his sharp jawline and mouthed softly, “I'LL get the thermometer."

But Waylen suddenly held her hand and refused to let her go. After a while, he hung up the phone and pressed her against the sofa, kissing her passionately.

Although she was extremely tempted, Rena turned her face away from him.

“We can't... You still have a fever."

His face was so close to hers that he could see each individual Lash on her pretty eyes.

Swallowing, he said in a hoarse voice, "It doesn't matter! Maybe you'll be the cure."