Investing In My Crippled Wife Every Return Makes Me Stronger Chapter 125

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[ … words ]

Four hours later.

Soren stepped out of the car and let out a long breath, stretching his stiff muscles after sitting for so long. The cross-city traffic had been brutal, turning what should have been a standard drive into an exhausting journey.

Holding the carefully packaged box, he turned toward the entrance of the building.

’Ah, right. I should tell them I’m back.’

He recalled that a while ago, Aunt Clara had called him a second time, specifically instructing him to send a message or let them know the exact moment he arrived.

Soren looked down at the box in his hand.

Were these snacks really that good for Ethea to be waiting for them with so much enthusiasm?

He had actually sampled one of the shop’s signature items while waiting for the order to be prepared. While it was indeed delicious, the taste did not seem drastically different from the ones they usually ate at home.

He shrugged to himself. Well, as long as she was happy, it didn’t really matter.

He typed Aunt Clara’s number and pressed the call button as he stepped through the entrance.

The phone rang twice before she picked up.

“M-Mr. Soren?” Clara’s voice came through the speaker, sounding slightly breathless and hurried.

“Hello, Auntie. I’m outside the building. Just letting you know since you asked,” Soren replied, adjusting the pastry box under his arm. He paused, noticing the strain in her tone. “And, are you okay? You sound a bit haggard.”

“Ah, no! I’m completely fine,” Clara said quickly, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. “I was just… working around the house and got a bit tired. Please, come right up! We will be waiting for you.”

Before he could ask anything else, the line went dead.

Soren raised an eyebrow, staring at his darkened phone screen. He definitely felt like something was wrong, but nothing logical came to mind. Why would Clara be so breathless just from doing housework?

Shrugging the uneasy feeling away, he walked over to the elevator.

In a few minutes, he was standing directly in front of their apartment door. He unlocked it, stepped inside, and closed the door behind him.

“I’m back,” Soren called out, balancing the pastry box in one hand as he bent down to take off his shoes.

However, the apartment was oddly quiet and completely dark. The main lights were shut off, and a heavy silence hung over the space. However, with Soren’s heightened perception, the darkness was barely an obstacle. He could instantly detect two distinct presences waiting just past the entryway corridor. He could easily recognize the faint, shallow rhythm of Aunt Clara’s nervous breathing and the familiar, subtle shifting of Ethea’s wheelchair.

A wave of confusion washed over him. Why were they sitting in total darkness?

“Aunt Clara? Ethea?” Soren called out, frowning as he cautiously stepped out of the entryway corridor and into the living room. “Why are the lights off—”

BANG! BANG!

A sharp explosion echoed through the room, cutting him off completely. A vibrant cascade of colorful confetti and metallic ribbons rained down through the air.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

The overhead lights snapped on, revealing a beautifully decorated living room covered in balloons and a large celebratory banner stretching across the wall.

Aunt Clara was standing right by the switch with a smoking party popper, while Ethea sat in her wheelchair, holding a popped cylinder of her own with a rare, bright smile on her face.

Soren was left completely stunned, staring blankly at the colorful chaos around him as confetti drifted slowly onto his shoulders. Even with his sharp senses, his mind completely failed to predict this scenario, leaving him utterly speechless.

For several seconds, the only sound in the apartment was the soft rustle of metallic fringe settling onto the floorboards. Soren remained frozen, his mind completely blank as he looked from the colorful banner on the wall back to the two smiling figures.

“What’s with that look, Mr. Soren? Did we surprise you that much?” Aunt Clara asked with a warm chuckle, brushing a stray piece of blue confetti from her own shoulder.

“I…” Soren blinked, finally finding his voice. He looked down at the luxury pastry box in his hand, at them, and then back up at the decorations. “Is it… my birthday today?”

Ethea let out a soft, melodic laugh from her wheelchair, her fingers still resting on the spent party popper in her lap. “You actually forgot your own birthday, didn’t you?”

“I… really did,” Soren admitted, a helpless smile escaping him as the tension completely left his body. Because…

’I have never celebrated one before.’

Heck, he barely even remembered when the date was. Even when asked, he sometimes would have to check his ID.

Back when he lived with the Valmere family, his very birth had been viewed as an unpleasant mistake, a stain on their lineage. To them, it was an occasion wrapped in resentment, so the concept of celebrating it was entirely foreign.

Even after leaving that household and striking out on his own, his life had been a relentless, exhausting struggle for survival. He simply never had the time, the peace of mind, or the disposable income to care about a meaningless calendar date.

But looking around the room now, the reality of the situation finally began to sink in.

’I…’

A strange, unfamiliar warmth swelled in his chest, so thick it almost made his throat tighten.

’I… actually have a family now.’

The thought settled quietly, bringing a profound sense of peace that he hadn’t realized he was missing.

For his entire life, his existence had been treated as an unfortunate mistake, a burden, or a tool to be utilized.

But looking at the two of them standing amid the brightly colored balloons and hanging streamers, he realized that he finally belonged somewhere.

Soren’s gaze subconsciously drifted back to Ethea, his eyes anchoring on her amidst the colorful chaos. Their eyes met, and her expression softened into a beautiful, radiant smile that seemed to light up the entire room.

“Happy Birthday… Dear.”