Ariana pivoted towards the doorway and yelled, "Dr. Chadwick, are you alright out there?"

Theodore's gaze darkened, her words like striking a flint deep within him. He removed the key from the lock and closed and locked the door with a resounding slam. With a stern expression, he approached the woman now lying on the floor.

Ariana's heart sank. His presence brought back memories of their first encounter.

Theodore had just emerged from a vegetative state then. The revelation of his unexpected marital status had provoked a violent reaction. His cold indifference from back then mirrored his demeanor now. It was as if nothing mattered to him, Ariana included.

The feeling of being prey under the gaze of a predator was a stark memory that resurfaced, causing a tremor of fear.

"Theodore, please—don't," she whispered, voice trembling.

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at him. Love was conspicuously absent in her gaze, replaced by pure panic and fear.

Theodore halted, taken aback by her defensive posture. But he quickly regained his composure and continued towards her, finally squatting in front of her.

Ariana managed a word, "You—" Her mind was so scattered that she couldn't form a coherent sentence. As Theodore extended his hand towards her, she reflexively shut her eyes. Expecting the worst, she was instead drawn into a comforting embrace.

A sense of stunned surprise washed over her as she studied the man's chiseled jawline and inhaled his familiar scent—a blend of juniper and tobacco.

Theodore cast his gaze downwards, studying Ariana's befuddled expression.

Succumbing to the pull he felt, he brushed his lips against her smooth forehead—a feather-light contact that carried the weight of his yearning.

His kiss added to her confusion. Despite the strained tension between them, Ariana found herself unable to resist Theodore's warm embrace. The knowledge that she couldn't defy him or fend him off, even if he overstepped, brought her sadness.

Frustrated with her own weakness, she released her hold on Theodore's collar, her eyes downcast.

Theodore, however, was oblivious to her emotional turmoil. He hoisted her up with ease, righted the toppled wheelchair with a foot, and carefully settled her back in it.

He removed his suit jacket, gently draping it over her bare knees.

The tenderness in his actions contrasted with his frosty demeanor.

His caring gestures tamed Ariana's anger and sent her heart pounding in her chest.

She was at war with herself—torn between the happiness she felt in his presence and the anger over his past actions and lies.

And yet, she was grateful it was Theodore who had walked through the door, not Mitchel. Despite Mitchel's medical expertise, she didn't want him, or anyone else, to witness her in such a disheveled state. But Theodore was different. He was the only person before whom she could bare her soul completely.