Horace's words lingered in Ariana's mind. She remembered how she had violently pushed Theodore's hand away in anger earlier, and the sight of a crimson bandage with reopened wounds.

Before that, in a fit of anger, she had forcefully pressed her hand against his palm.

A pang of remorse pierced her heart, and tears welled in her eyes. She blamed Theodore for hurting her, yet she, too, had caused him pain.

She hadn't anticipated her own aggression in that moment.

However, the memory of Theodore's deceit and surveillance sent a shiver down her spine. She felt lost, unsure of what to do next.

Theodore silently moved to the adjacent ward, where the room lay in darkness.

After shutting the door, he settled into the wheelchair, gazing at his hands as they trembled uncontrollably.

Outside, the hurried footsteps and hushed conversations of nurses and doctors filled the air, but Ariana's familiar voice was conspicuously absent.

It dawned on him that her ankle was injured, forcing her to lie in bed. How could she possibly come to him?

Moreover, she had shown clear disdain in her eyes, revealing her reluctance to see him. He cherished her eyes the most—crystal-clear and radiant, windows to her soul.

It was no lie when Ariana expressed her desire to leave. She possessed an unwavering stubbornness, refusing to yield under any circumstances.

He had lied to her, monitored her, and even— Theodore's body convulsed violently. He pressed a hand against his forehead, his eyes reflecting madness and suppressed anguish. Two conflicting emotions waged war within him.

He couldn't bear to continue dwelling on it, for it only inflicted further pain upon Ariana. She would eventually walk away from him.

Theodore closed his eyes, inhaling deeply to find solace. When he reopened them, they lacked any trace of emotion. He absentmindedly reached for his pocket, forgetting that his cigarettes resided in a different coat.

Steering the wheelchair towards the cabinet before the bed, he opened a drawer to reveal a familiar small bottle. Pouring out two pills, he was about to consume them when suddenly, the room flooded with light.

Horace entered just in time to witness this scene. Hurrying forward, he snatched the medicine bottle and scrutinized it before slipping it into his pocket.

“Boss, you haven't taken this medicine for a while. Why did you decide to take it now?" Horace's tone, typically deferential towards Theodore, had become marked by anxiety.

Theodore remained silent, neither requesting the bottle nor questioning its disappearance. He appeared much calmer as he inquired, "How is she?”

Aware of Theodore's deep concern for Ariana, Horace sighed and responded, "Mrs. Anderson has settled down and fallen asleep. Take better care of yourself and refrain from acting recklessly."

Theodore acknowledged his worry with a nod, and then issued a firm command.