Investing in My Crippled Wife: Every Return Makes Me Stronger

Soren kept his eyes locked on Ethea, his gaze shifting back and forth between her peaceful face and the blue interface floating in front of him.

About ten minutes ticked by in heavy silence, the quiet room stretching the seconds. He barely blinked, watching for the slightest change in her breathing or any twitch of discomfort.

Finally, a subtle shift caught his attention.

The lines on the status window flickered, the words updating as the trance state shifted back to normal. At that exact moment, her long eyelashes imperceptibly fluttered.

Ethea opened her eyes, and their gazes met.

Soren found himself lost in her eyes for a brief, breathless moment, completely captivated by the faint, residual starlight swirling deep within her pupils before he managed to pull himself back to reality.

He cleared his throat and asked. ”Ethea? How do you feel?”

”...I am okay.”

As she spoke, her gaze drifted downward, focusing on where their fingers were still intertwined. Following her eyes, Soren suddenly realized his own actions. He had been tightly gripping her hands the entire time without even noticing. He quickly let go, pulling his arms back as the sharp tension that had locked his shoulders finally evaporated.

He waited a moment for her to adjust, though the burning curiosity inside him could no longer be contained. Leaning forward slightly, curiosity and a spark of hope mixing in his tone, he asked, ”What happened? Did you... learn it?”

”Mm,” Ethea nodded slightly. ”The technique is integrated into my mind. I can practice it now. And...”

She paused, looking down at her empty hands where his warmth still lingered before settling them on her lap.

”Soren, I...”

She clenched her fingers, gathering her courage, and raised her head, locking her eyes directly with his, refusing to look away.

Thump.

The quiet room suddenly felt much smaller.

”I am truly grateful.”

”I am grateful for everything. For this gift, for the sweets you always bring me, and for the meals you carefully prepare.”

”...”

Soren was frozen, caught completely off guard by her sudden openness. He found himself entirely unable to look away from her. The usual emotional wall she kept between them felt entirely gone, replaced by a raw, quiet sincerity.

”Thank you for always thinking of me too,” she added, her voice dropping to a softer, more intimate register. ”For taking care of me, worrying about me, and always trying to help me, even when I do not ask.”

A faint, genuine warmth flushed her cheeks, making her look incredibly lovely in the quiet room. She squeezed her hands together in her lap, her heart fluttering at her own boldness, yet she forced herself to keep looking at him.

Thump. Thump.

”And...”

”Thank you...”

”Thank you for being such a good husband to me, Soren.”

Soren felt his breath catch completely in his throat.

Thump. Thump.

Before he could even process the sweet, racing beat of his own heart, Ethea took a small, steadying breath. Her expression remained gentle, but a beautiful, unwavering determination filled her eyes.

”I promise to fulfill my role as your wife as well. I will master this technique so that I won’t be a burden to you.”

The room fell back into absolute stillness, save for the wild, loud ringing in Soren’s ears. He sat there, utterly paralyzed, his chest tight as he stared at the girl in front of him. Her cheeks were still tinged with a soft pink, and though she looked completely calm on the outside, the slight tremor in her clasped fingers betrayed how much courage those words had taken.

”Ethea...”

Soren finally managed to squeeze out, his voice a bit rougher than usual.

He reached out, his hand hovering in the air for a second before he gently placed it over hers once more. This time, his touch was slow and deliberate.

”You have never been a burden,” he said, his eyes filled with an intense, quiet sincerity that mirrored her own. ”Not even for a single second.”

Ethea’s eyes widened once more.

The absolute certainty in his voice left no room for doubt, and the soft pink hue rapidly deepened across her cheeks. She quietly shifted her gaze away, her usual detached composure melting into a rare, defenseless vulnerability.

Only then, as the initial urgency of comforting her faded, did the delayed realization of her words finally crash through his brain.

’Wait... What did she just say?’

’...Good husband?’

’...Wife...?’

His mind completely short-circuited.

In the silence that followed, he found himself staring at her, noticing the delicate curve of her shoulders and the gentle, flushed expression that made her look so entirely different from her usual self. Her quiet shyness made her look absolutely adorable, a pure and lovely sight that made it impossible for him to tear his eyes away.

”...Gulp.”

The sound of his own nervous swallow seemed to break the spell, and immediately after, a sudden, fierce heat rushed straight to his ears.

Thump. Thump.

Spurred by the erratic rhythm in his chest, Soren frantically pulled his hand back as if he had been burned, quickly turning his face toward the wall.

He coughed into his fist, trying to swallow down the sudden nervousness fluttering in his chest, but his heart refused to listen, hammering wildly against his ribs.

”I—I mean,” he stammered, his fingers blindly scratching the back of his neck as he scrambled to piece his composure back together. ”You really do not have to say things like that. We are... we are married, after all. It is only natural that I take care of the meals, the sweets, and... and you...”

He kept his eyes glued to the far corner of the room, his red ears completely betraying the calm front he was trying to put on.

Desperate to escape the sweet, suffocating tension that seemed to shrink the entire apartment, he cleared his throat loudly and grabbed the nearest conversational lifeline.

”Cough! Anyway! The manual... it is great that you learned it. Really great. What kind of technique is it? Is it safe to practice?”