"You're honestly the easiest patient I've ever had. If there's any—" Elsa started, then suddenly stopped mid-sentence.
Her eyes lit up as they landed on the white scarf on the table. "He actually finished it!" she exclaimed.
Clara blinked, following Elsa's gaze. When she saw the item on the table, her heart skipped a beat, especially after recalling Elsa's earlier words.
She looked at Elsa and asked with uncertainty, "Are you telling me that Wren knitted this scarf himself?"
Elsa was oblivious to the change in Clara's expression. She blinked in surprise. "Yeah, didn't you know?"
A trace of confusion flickered across Clara's face. She just couldn't imagine Wren doing something like hand-knitting a scarf.
However, her mind couldn't help but drift to all the things Wren had done for her in the past.
Wren had once been the typical pampered young heir, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He had never needed to do anything for himself. If he wanted something, someone else would take care of it—until he brought her into the Zachman family.
She watched him fumble through taking care of her. She had seen him, someone who had never set foot in a kitchen before, as he juggled his studies while learning from top chefs how to cook, all so he could take better care of her.
His hands were burned by hot oil. Yet, what concerned him wasn't the pain but whether the dish he made would suit her taste.
When she had period cramps, he took time off work to stay home and care for her, even going online to learn how to make ginger tea to relieve her discomfort. He even washed her bloodstained clothes by hand.
There were so many things she once thought Wren would never do. However, time and again, he broke his own rules for her, learning and doing things he never would have before.
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