The next morning, Ariana and Theodore sat down for breakfast together. After their argument the night before, neither of them spoke.

The atmosphere was so tense that even her favorite toast didn't seem appetizing to Ariana.

She sipped on her milk absent-mindedly. Every now and then, she would steal a glance at Theodore.

He ate quietly, each of his movements delicate and elegant.

Some people were simply born with grace.

Ariana snorted to herself. He might be handsome, but that was no disguise for his mean character.

She took a big bite of toast and chewed.

Then she realized that Theodore hadn't been using his left hand, and his sleeve was pulled down over his wrist.

She thought back to the night before. The mystery man had held her with his left hand.

A suspicion crept in.

She knew it was a long shot, but she picked up the jam jar and held it out to Theodore's left hand.

"This jam is delicious," she said with a smile.

Theodore gave her a meaningful look and didn‘t move.

Then Judy, who had been serving the food, spoke up abruptly.

“Mr. Anderson doesn't have much of a sweet tooth."

Ariana smiled dryly, "Oh, my bad."

As she was about to take the jam back, Theodore's left hand reached for it. His sleeve slid up a couple of inches.

Ariana stared down at his wrist with bated breath. It was wrapped in gauze.

"Oh god, what happened to your wrist?" she exclaimed.

“It was my fault. I knocked over a bowl of porridge Last night and scalded him," Judy explained, a guilty look on her face. She turned and picked up a first aid kit.