Even though Theodore didn't say it outright, Rosalie had already guessed.
"Did you get these injuries while saving me? And the one on your shoulder… It's a gunshot wound, isn't it?"
Theodore remained silent, which was as good as confirmation.
Rosalie was overcome with guilt. She hadn't even noticed that he was injured, and even after he had returned, she remained completely unaware for so long. No wonder she had thought he looked unwell. She had assumed it was due to lack of sleep, but in reality, he had been wounded.
The thought of him enduring such pain, carrying his injuries while still staying by her side and losing sleep over it, made her heart ache.
She bit her lip and continued, "Then what about the rest of these wounds? Tell me the truth."
Her fingers brushed over the scars on his chest.
"Rose, I'm really fine, I—"
"Theodore." She cut him off. "If you don't tell me, I won't talk to you anymore."
"…Before I went to rescue you, I underwent intense training. These injuries are from that. But they're just surface wounds, nothing serious. You don't have to worry. They'll heal."
Rosalie could no longer hold back her tears. They streamed down her face as she cried, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
The sheer intensity of that short period of training—she couldn't even begin to imagine what he had endured. It must have pushed his body to its very limits.
Theodore panicked upon seeing her cry, and quickly pulled her into his embrace. "Rose, don't cry. I'm fine now. Look at me, I'm doing well. And honestly, the training helped me a lot. I'm stronger now, and I can protect myself better. So don't worry. It was a blessing in disguise."
Rosalie knew he was just trying to comfort her. A blessing in disguise? The suffering he endured wasn't some kind of fortune—it was a brutal reality.
He had risked his life for hers. That wasn't a blessing, but a sacrifice.
"You're right. I should have told you sooner. I'm sorry. Next time, I will. It's late—do you want me to stay with you? I can go to your room and keep you company," Theodore said.
"Theodore, why are you so stupid? You knew how terribly I treated you before. Why do you still do this? Even if you ignored me, it wouldn't have mattered," Rosalie said.
Theodore noticed her gaze immediately. He sat up, grabbed the bottles, and swiftly stuffed them into the drawer, trying to hide them from her.
But it was too late—Rosalie had already seen them. She reached out and pulled the drawer open, attempting to take the bottles out.
Theodore caught her hand. "Rose, don't look."
"What kind of medicine is this? Why can't I see it?"
"It's nothing serious. I've already finished the course. Just some regular anti-allergy medication."
His explanation was weak and unconvincing.
Rosalie narrowed her eyes. "Earlier, you said you had a cold. Now you're saying it's allergies. Theodore, don't tell me these are cancer medications. Are you hiding a terminal illness from me?"
If he refused to tell her, then she could only assume the worst.
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