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 Arianaâs anger and sent her heart pounding in her chest.
âs
She was at war with herselfâtorn 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 Mitchelâs medical expertise, she didnât 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.
The confined space exuded an unbearable silence.
Ariana and Theodore were in silence, neither willing to break it, each waiting for the other to speak.
Ariana, confined to a wheelchair, nervously clutched her coat, her gestures growing increasingly unnatural.
Theodore, towering over her, gazed down, creating an overwhelming weight upon Arianaâs shoulders, like a mountain pressing down on her.
Avoiding prolonged eye contact with him, Arianaâs gaze wandered, her mind filled with unease.
She silently cursed, wondering if he had ever leaned the art of conversation.
After a while, she finally sensed that something was amiss.
She raised her eyes to meet Theodoreâs and asked, âHave you finally decided to discard the wheelchair?â
There was no ulterior motive in her question; she was simply curious.
In the past, Theodore had always been the one standing while Ariana sat.
The sudden reversal of roles unsettled her.
Yet, as soon as the words left her lips, Ariana detected a bitter undertone in her tone.
Theodoreâs expression, or lack thereof, hardened.
He appeared colder, devoid of any visible emotion.
Embarrassed, Ariana compressed her parched lips and stumbled over her words.
âI didnât mean it that way.
â
âI know.
â Theodore remained silent, dropping to one knee to examine her injured foot.
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Restlessly curling her rounded toes, Ariana murmured, âPlease refrain from touching my feet.
Theyâre dirty.
â
Her feet were stained with red wine and had yet to be cleaned.
Frowning, Theodoreâs tone brooked no refusal as he commanded, âBehave and donât move.
â
Ariana awkwardly sealed her lips shut and obediently stayed still.
As she watched Theodore kneel beside her, meticulously inspecting her ankle, a familiar sense of security washed over her.
But it also stirred something within her, igniting a rapid heartbeat akin to electric currents coursing through her body.
It was an irresistible and captivating sensation.
She had once claimed that Sarah was an incurable romantic.
Now she wondered if she, too, possessed that same trait.
Ariana scratched her head, her face contorting suddenly.
âNo, no, no.
It hurtsâ¦â