Chapter 4 A Quiet Strength

• Richard casually picked up his phone and started chatting, right in front of Diana.
• Diana, feeling disinterested, got up and headed to the bathroom. She didn’t make a conscious effort to listen in on his conversation, but through the translucent glass, she noticed his expressions alternating between a frown and a relaxed face.
• Once the call ended, Richard stepped into the bathroom.
• By then, Diana had already tidied up. With an indifferent tone, she asked, "Did Miss Freya get upset because I answered the call?"
• "It’s fine," Richard replied as he shifted his attention to the mirror.
• Without missing a beat, he added in a leisurely tone, "We’re still husband and wife, after all. It’s only natural that you’d answer a call for me."
• Diana decided to head downstairs to cook, but before she could get far, Richard called her back and asked for help applying some medicine.
• Standing next to him, Diana caught her reflection in the mirror. Her face was dotted with clusters of red bumps.
• "What’s going on?" Richard asked, directing her attention to her skin.
• It was only after he mentioned it that Diana fully realized—her face, arms, legs, and even parts of her body were covered in raised red papules. She instantly remembered the culprit: yesterday’s allergic reaction to potatoes. Considering she had been sweating after picking him up, combined with the gusty winds, her allergy had flared up quite severely.
• "It’s just an allergy," she said casually. "I’ve already taken some medicine for it—it should clear up in a few days."
• Richard didn’t seem particularly concerned about her condition either. "Doesn’t matter," he muttered. "It won’t stop me from discussing our divorce with Grandpa."
• Diana added without expression, "I’ll freshen up, throw on some powder, and then we can head over to your grandfather’s house together."
• Keeping her mood neutral wasn’t easy. Especially since just the day before, Freya had personally called to check on the situation between Richard and her. Diana knew deep down that Freya’s feelings mattered to him, just as much as his sense of obligation did. For Diana, prolonging this awkward arrangement was unnecessary; better to end things sooner rather than later.
• Since everything between them had already been put out in the open—Richard's feelings for Freya, and her own quiet resolve—there was no point in clinging pathetically to a marriage that neither truly desired anymore.
• Diana was not someone who begged for sympathy or mercy. She carried herself with quiet strength even in moments like this.
• Breaking her train of thought, Richard frowned and leaned in close, his gaze scrutinizing every bump on her face. "We’ll stop by the hospital for a follow-up later," he instructed firmly.
• "Okay," Diana replied. "Afterward, we can visit Grandpa’s house."
• But Richard shook his head slightly. "Not today," he announced abruptly. "Grandpa’s birthday is coming up—he’ll be seventy soon—and you know how much he adores you. You wouldn’t want to ruin his celebration by bringing this up now, would you? Let’s wait till after his birthday has passed."
• Diana paused and took a breath before relenting. "You’re right. Grandpa is the only one in your family who truly cares about me. I wouldn’t want to cause him sadness... I’ll bring it up tactfully when the time comes."
• Richard smirked faintly before poking at one of the more prominent bumps on her cheek with unnecessary force. "Is it that I’m not good enough for you?"
• Diana winced from the pain and shot him a glare but refrained from saying anything further. What could she say? His actions weren’t outright cruel, but neither were they affectionate enough to warm her heart or her doubts about their connection.
• "I understand you’re eager for this to end," she eventually said calmly. "So don’t worry—once Grandpa’s birthday is over, I will bring it up and honor what I said before."
• But Richard arched a brow skeptically and asked with mock seriousness, "Are you sure I’m not the impatient one? You seem more eager than me—just dying to go find your old lover again, aren’t you?" He stretched out his hand playfully to press another bump on her face.
• Annoyed by his antics, Diana dodged nimbly and shot back sarcastically, "I’m simply fulfilling *your* wish."
• Richard, observing her timid, rabbit-like demeanor, rubbed his temples, his heart inexplicably gripped by irritation.
• After breakfast, they headed to the hospital.
• Following Richard’s X-ray examination, the doctor reassured them there were no serious injuries but advised him to rest and avoid excessive strain.
• Without giving Diana much choice, Richard insisted she visit the dermatology department.
• Diana, who had a medical background, typically avoided unnecessary consultations, but Richard's persistence left her with no room to refuse.
• Deep down, fear gnawed at her—fear that the doctor might deduce her pregnancy or that the prescribed medication would prove harmful to the baby.
• "Don’t you have pressing matters at the company?" she asked, hoping to steer Richard elsewhere.
• "The doctor told me to rest. As an injured soldier, I’m taking this as time off," Richard replied casually.
• Diana: ...
• The doctor examined her red rashes and asked bluntly, "Do you know what triggers your allergies?"
• "Yes," she admitted softly.
• “And yet you consumed so much despite knowing? This got pretty severe. Have you taken any medication?”
• Diana shook her head.
• The doctor jotted down notes while giving instructions. "I’ll prescribe something. Start with this, and if the symptoms persist, return immediately for further evaluation or an injection."
• Diana grew increasingly uneasy. She worried about the potential effects of the medication on her pregnancy but refrained from speaking openly with Richard standing right beside her.
• Her anxiety eased slightly when the doctor asked Richard to pick up the blood test results, leaving them alone.
• As soon as he left, she seized the opportunity to ask, “Doctor, can this medication be taken if one’s pregnant?”
• The doctor paused, startled. "You're pregnant? Why didn’t you inform me earlier? Let me alter the prescription to something safe for you."
• "Thank you," she said in relief.
• When Richard returned, his expression darkened considerably. The gentle patience he had shown earlier had completely evaporated.
• While waiting in line at the pharmacy, he finally leaned toward her ear and murmured in a low voice, "You’ve grown bold enough to lie to me?"
• Diana flinched at his words, looking up at him with fragile innocence. "I... I didn’t mean to."
• "So it was deliberate then?" His eyes pierced hers with unyielding intensity.
• Diana: ...
• Did he figure anything out?
• "We’re on the brink of separation. I didn’t think there was a need to inform you about everything. Why should it matter?" she replied, a tinge of grievance in her voice.
• “You’re insufferable,” Richard muttered coldly.
• Tears instantly filled Diana’s eyes; his disdain cut deeply.
• “It’s alright if I’m such a nuisance to you," she murmured bitterly. "But don’t concern yourself this time."
• Noticing her glistening eyes, Richard softened slightly and added gently, "I’m only calling you out for lying about taking your meds before. Don’t do it again."
• Diana hesitated for a moment and saw genuine concern etched in his gaze.
• So... that’s what upset him. He doesn’t know about the baby yet.
• That would remain her secret—for now.
• She forced a fleeting smile and nodded silently.
• When it was finally her turn to retrieve the medication, Richard glanced at the prescription and frowned. "Why is this for external application now?"
• He distinctly remembered the oral medication prescribed earlier and how the doctor emphasized taking it three times daily for efficient relief.
• “It’s easier this way,” Diana explained smoothly. “I can apply it whenever it itches without worrying about missing doses.”
• “But external medication works more slowly,” Richard countered. “Grandpa’s birthday is around the corner—do you want him worrying about red spots on your face? What will he think about what I let happen to you?”
• “It won’t come to that," Diana said quickly. "If it does, I’ll tell Grandpa it was my own negligence.”
• She held up two fingers as if swearing an oath of reassurance.
• Still unsatisfied, Richard insisted stubbornly, “We should still get some oral medication if things don’t clear up—better that than needing a hospital trip for injections.”
• Her heart raced with alarm as she hugged him tightly from the side in desperation. “Let’s not bother with that! My stomach hasn’t been feeling well these past few days—I’m afraid oral meds might make it worse.”
• Her fabricated excuse seemed to appease him for now.
• He relented with a sigh and led her outside.
• Richard silently turned the car keys in ignition, driving them back without a word. Diana, seated beside him, opened the small pack of medication and carefully applied it to the most severely injured areas on her body: her face, arms, and legs. But when it came to the back of her neck—a spot she couldn’t reach—she hesitated. The injury there stung and itched in equal measure, but she resigned herself with a quiet sigh. Just bear with it, she thought.
• Richard glanced sideways and noticed her struggling. Without warning, he took the medicine from her hands. "Won’t you ask for my help?" he said casually.
• She avoided looking at him, her voice petulant as she muttered, "No need. We’re practically divorced anyway."
• "We *aren’t* divorced yet," Richard replied firmly. "And don’t forget, you helped me with my injuries yesterday. It’s only fair that I return the favor. But still..." His lips curved into a subtle smirk. "I want to hear you ask nicely."
• Diana pressed her lips together tightly, anger bubbling beneath her calm exterior. He was always like this, shamelessly smug and unwilling to back down until she submitted. She prided herself on her quiet resilience—rarely arguing or asking for help—but that streak of defiance in her refused to be tamed.
• Taking a deep breath, she decided to break free from her usual restraint just this once. They’d be going their separate ways anyway; why not indulge in a moment of mischief? Tilting her head with exaggerated sweetness, her voice dripped with coyness as she said, "Honey, please~ would you help me apply it to my neck?" The overly cloying tone was shamelessly playful, as though her words could melt into honey.
• Richard froze for a moment, visibly taken aback. Whatever he'd expected, it certainly wasn’t *that.*