Chapter 181

Theodore leaned against the wall with one hand, every muscle taut. Rosalie was close, and she felt every ounce of his strength.

He didn't seem weak at all; yet strangely enough, she believed his words.

Theodore stared at her flushed cheeks. A thin mist covered her fair face, making her look even lovelier than usual; she was irresistibly attractive.

Rosalie appeared delicate and vulnerable, but he knew she needed care too. Her heart was soft; despite his many faults, she forgave him time and time.

At only twenty-one, she was in the prime of her youth—and yet, she always seemed saddened by him.

Sometimes, he really did feel like a jerk.

After Theodore finished bathing, Rosalie's face was almost as red as a tomato. She dried him off, blew dry his hair, dressed him in pajamas, and helped him into bed.

The whole process felt like she was taking care of a child.

As Theodore lay in bed, silently watching her bustling around for him, she placed a glass of water on his bedside table.