My Reborn Admirer Wins Over My Heart (Oriana) novel Chapter 57

**TITLE: He Returned to Break and Own Me and for His Queen**

**Chapter 57: The Call**

Micah halted abruptly, his foot suspended in mid-air, as if time itself had decided to pause. The warm, inviting smile that had graced his lips moments ago dissipated like mist in the morning sun, leaving behind a stark and unsettling silence.

He could hear Oriana’s hurried footsteps, echoing through the hallway. What could have prompted her sudden urgency? Was it the troubling news about Grant? Had she heard about him vomiting blood in a drunken stupor? A wave of concern washed over him. So, she still cared about him, despite everything.

Micah squeezed his eyes shut, a sharp pang of frustration coursing through him. He took several deep breaths, trying to steady the tempest within. Finally, he retreated into the sanctuary of the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him, as if to seal off the outside world and all its noise.

Oriana burst out from the kitchen, her heart racing like a drum in her chest. The last thing she wanted was for Micah to catch wind of her distress. He might be blind, but his other senses were incredibly keen; he could pick up on the slightest sound.

But given that she had just witnessed him close the door, surely he hadn’t heard her? Right?

Meanwhile, Alaric’s voice buzzed insistently through the phone, cutting through her thoughts. “Oriana? Are you there? Can you hear me, Oriana?”

Her expression darkened at his persistence. “Shut up,” she muttered, irritation creeping into her tone.

“Fantastic! It’s you, Oriana! Grant’s going to be saved, just you wait,” Alaric continued, his voice laced with urgency.

Before he could elaborate, Oriana interjected sharply, her tone icy. “If Grant is vomiting blood, then take him to the hospital. I’m not a doctor; I can’t save him. And just so we’re clear, I’m no longer his girlfriend. Don’t ever disturb me again.”

With a decisive tap on Chubby’s head, the little creature promptly ended the call with a satisfying click. Rolling her eyes in exasperation, Oriana turned back toward the kitchen.

Ten minutes slipped by, and the stew simmered gently on the stove, its rich aroma filling the air, waiting patiently for Micah to join her. But why was he taking so long to change?

After another five minutes, her patience wore thin. Oriana lowered the heat on the stew and made her way toward Micah’s room, a sense of unease settling in her stomach.

She knocked softly, but the silence that followed was deafening.

“Micah? I’m coming in, okay?” she called out, her voice barely above a whisper.

As she pushed the door open, a wave of darkness enveloped her. The room was cloaked in shadows, illuminated only by a faint glow seeping in from the hallway. Yet, even in the dim light, the sparse furnishings were starkly visible.

The last time she had stood at this door, she hadn’t had the chance to truly see inside. In contrast to the cozy arrangements of the living room and her own bedroom, Micah’s personal space was starkly minimal—just a bed and a solitary sofa.

A complex array of emotions flickered across Oriana’s face. Perhaps this bare setup was intentional, a reflection of Micah’s desire for simplicity. Yet, it struck her that this simplicity also hinted at loneliness.

As Micah pondered his own thoughts, the bathroom door swung open. Oriana instinctively turned to call out to him, only to freeze in place, her breath hitching in her throat. Water cascaded down his sculpted abs, glistening in the faint light, and she felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks.

He—

Seeing her shiver with embarrassment, a warmth filled Micah’s eyes, threatening to overflow.

His lips curved into a smile that betrayed his delight. “You don’t need to apologize,” he said softly, placing his large hand gently atop her head, fingers weaving through her soft hair. “And honestly? I don’t mind at all. In fact, I think it’s kind of nice.”

Oriana nearly gasped, her heart racing. Did he truly understand the implications of his words?

“Maybe you should get dressed first. Where are your clothes? I can fetch them for you,” he suggested, his tone light.

As she closed her eyes and tilted her head up, Micah suppressed a laugh. “They’re behind the hidden door to your left.”

“Okay, don’t move. I’ll grab them for you,” she replied, her voice steady despite her racing heart.

Concerned she might bump into something, Oriana carefully turned and made her way into the dressing area, returning shortly with a set of pajamas.

When she turned back, she politely kept her eyes closed, hoping to spare them both further embarrassment.

Her lashes fluttered slightly, unaware that Micah was watching her intently, unwilling to miss a single adorable expression that crossed her face.

Oriana thrust the pajamas into his arms, determination in her voice. “You put these on. I’ll wait outside. After you change, I’ll help you dry your hair.”