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."

Theodore's hand became moistened by the weight of her teardrops, the sensation of warmth emanating from his fingertips.