Investing in My Crippled Wife: Every Return Makes Me Stronger

Soren stepped out of the taxi, the door clicking shut behind him as the vehicle pulled back into the bustling city traffic. He didn’t move immediately. Instead, he stood on the clean pavement, his gaze drifting upward to take in the massive, luxurious residential building towering into the sky before him.

The architecture was sleek and ultra-modern, featuring polished obsidian stone accents and sweeping glass balconies that reflected the fading afternoon light. A heavily secured, private gated entrance stood at the front, flanked by manicured greenery and high-end mana-detection security grids. It was a place designed exclusively for top-tier hunters and wealthy corporate executives.

’...’

Soren stared at the grand structure for a long moment, a strange, quiet sensation settling in his chest.

’...I still can’t believe this is where we will be living from now on.’

The contrast between this sprawling luxury and the cramped, run-down places he had grown accustomed to was stark. It was a tangible reminder of how quickly his circumstances were shifting.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, his fingers brushed against the heavy business card Ziso Vale had handed him just half a while ago. The subtle reminder of the lingering dangers outside vanished as he looked back up at the building. Right now, this place represented safety and a fresh start.

With a quiet exhale, Soren walked forward, approaching the glass entrance doors as they slid open smoothly to welcome him inside.

He passed through the immaculate lobby and stopped at the security barrier. Placing his hand over the biometric scanner, a soft green light chimed, verifying his identity as a resident and unlocking the glass gates leading to the elevator bank.

The elevator ride was smooth and virtually silent, the digital display rapidly ticking upward until it reached the 9th floor with a soft, melodic chime.

He stepped out onto a wide, carpeted corridor illuminated by warm, recessed lighting. He walked down the corridor for a brief moment before stopping right outside room 904.

He placed his palm against the sleek digital scanner on the door. With a quiet beep and the solid click of a heavy electronic lock releasing, the door swung inward.

Stepping inside, Soren was greeted by a spacious, open-concept foyer that immediately opened up into a massive living area. The apartment was grand, featuring floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows that flooded the entire space with natural afternoon light and offered a breathtaking view of the Kalmira skyline. The floors were polished hardwood, partially covered by thick, minimalist rugs that added a touch of warmth to the ultra-modern design.

To the right, a state-of-the-art kitchen stood complete with a marble island and top-tier appliances, looking more like a chef’s station than a standard home setup.

Beyond the main living space, a wide hallway led toward multiple bedrooms and a specialized training room equipped with basic mana-isolation padding. It was big, beautifully designed, and entirely secure — a pristine sanctuary completely isolated from the chaos of the city outside.

Soren then casually rubbed the small, unassuming ring on his finger, causing a soft glimmer of mana to ripple through the air. A split second later, a few plastic bags materialized directly in his hands.

The bags were filled with an assortment of premium sweets and a few groceries he had picked up on his way back from the court. Fortunately, since he now owned a proper spatial storage ring, pulling items out of thin air wouldn’t raise any eyebrows or look suspicious to anyone who happened to see him.

He walked past the foyer and stepped directly into the spacious living room. Near the center of the room, Ethea and Clara were sitting together, engaged in a quiet conversation. Before Soren could even take another step, Ethea’s gaze shifted smoothly toward the entrance, her dark eyes locking onto him as if she had anticipated the exact second he would walk through the door.

Soren let out a soft smile and nodded gently. ”I’m back.”

”Welcome home,” Ethea replied, a faint, graceful smile brushing across her lips.

Clara turned around at the sound of his voice, a warm, motherly smile instantly softening her face. ”Welcome back,” she said, standing up and stepping forward to take the plastic bags from him.

”Take the sweets out, Aunt Clara,” Soren told her, gesturing toward the kitchen. ”Set them up so we can all have a little snack together.”

”Understood, just give me a moment,” Clara nodded warmly, turning around and heading straight toward the pristine kitchen island to prepare everything.

Soren walked over to the main sofa, letting his body sink into the plush cushions. He leaned his head back against the rest, finally letting out a long, slow breath as the lingering tension from the courtroom completely dissipated.

”How did it go?” Ethea asked, her voice calm and steady as she turned her full attention toward him.

Soren shifted his gaze to meet hers, his expression thoroughly relaxed. He explained everything briefly, assuring her that Garin Vale had received his punishment.

”That’s good,” Ethea nodded subtly, satisfied with the news.

’He deserved at least that much for what he did.’

Right on cue, Aunt Clara returned from the kitchen, setting down plates full of the desserts, snacks, and sweets before pouring a cup of hot tea for everyone.

Soren smacked his lips at the sight of the spread, but he didn’t reach for the food just yet. Standing up, he walked over to the washroom to clean his hands and returned holding a clean, warm, damp towel.

Without a single trace of hesitation or awkwardness, he knelt down slightly beside Ethea’s wheelchair.

He gently took her slender hands into his own, carefully wiping them down with the warm towel to clean them before the meal.

He was completely focused on the simple task, entirely missing the sudden, deep flush of crimson creeping up Ethea’s neck and coloring her cheeks.

He was also completely oblivious to the small, mysterious smile playing on Aunt Clara’s lips as she watched the two of them from across the table.

’!’ Ethea felt an intense wave of embarrassment washing over her, her pulse quickening slightly as the warm cloth moved over her fingers. Even though Soren had always taken care of her like this without a second thought, doing it right now, in this massive new living room and directly in front of another person, felt strangely intimate and a bit shameful.

After finishing, Soren tossed the towel onto a small tray and properly sat down on the sofa next to her.

”...Thank you,” Ethea weakly whispered, her voice barely audible as she tried to calm her racing heart.

Soren simply nodded with a warm smile. And without missing a beat, he picked up a small dessert fork and neatly sliced into one of Ethea’s favorite sweet pastries. Scooping up a perfect bite-sized piece, he extended it directly toward her lips.

Ethea froze before quickly shooting a glance across the table at Aunt Clara.

Clara had casually picked up her teacup, her eyes fixed entirely on the rim as if it were the most fascinating piece of porcelain in existence, completely pretending she was invisible.

’...’

Realizing she couldn’t escape the situation, Ethea quickly opened her mouth and swallowed the pastry.

’...Sweet.’

Soren let out a soft chuckle before using the exact same fork to slice off another piece for himself, popping it into his mouth.

”Oh, this is really good~”

’...He’s doing it again,’ Ethea muttered inwardly. She watched him use the utensil without a single care in the world, and a vivid memory of a similar scene from their past flashed through her mind.

’!’ She suddenly realized what was about to happen next. Her face burned even hotter, and her lips parted to speak up and stop him before things escalated in front of an audience.

But before she could utter a single word, the next loaded fork was already hovering right in front of her face.

”Here,” Soren said naturally, completely focused on feeding her.

Ethea’s brain short-circuited.

She looked at the fork, then at Soren’s completely innocent expression, and finally at Aunt Clara, who had suddenly taken a very long, loud sip of her tea while staring directly at the ceiling.

Defeated, Ethea quickly snapped her mouth shut around the food, chewing furiously while wishing the floor of their brand-new, luxurious apartment would open up and swallow her whole.

’...I hate you, Soren.’