Chapter 1186: Theodore's Estrangement

Oscar agreed to let Theodore turn himself in. Theodore had volunteered; forcing him to stay would only increase his anxiety. Turning himself in and admitting his mistake was best, offering the hope of a lighter sentence. However, it meant the end of his work with Oscar. This blemish on his record would hinder his return to his previous position, even years later. Oscar regretted this, knowing Theodore's dedication and tireless work ethic.

That night, Theodore arrived home at 3:00 AM. He sat in the garage, smoking cigarettes before going upstairs. He avoided waking Little Bunny, curled asleep on the couch without a blanket.

He felt a kinship with those who might never know true love. He considered himself one of them.

He approached her.

"Little Bunny," he said indifferently.

She frowned, the lingering dream of a trip to the amusement park with Nicholas and him still fresh. She'd been wanting to apologize to Nicholas but hadn't found the chance. Rubbing her eyes, she struggled to stay awake.

"Theodore?"

"How come you're sleeping here again?"

"I was waiting for you, but I fell asleep. Did you have dinner?"

"Do you know what time it is?" Theodore asked coldly.

Little Bunny checked her phone: 3:00 AM. She wondered why he was so late.

"Don't wait for me next time."

"Okay," she replied with a smile. "I'll run you a bath."

She left for the bedroom. Theodore watched her go, lost in thought.

Soon, she returned. "Theodore, it's ready."

He pursed his lips and slowly entered the bathroom. Afterward, Little Bunny brought him soup. "I thought you'd be hungry. It'll help you sober up and nourish your skin."

Theodore examined the clear broth. He took a sip. "Little Bunny, do you like me?"

She froze. He rarely asked this, seeming to deliberately avoid the question. She hadn't considered it; living with him wasn't bad, but she sometimes felt anxious about returning home after work.

"I'm just asking, you don't have to answer," Theodore said, finishing the soup. Little Bunny remained silent, assuming it was a casual question.

After washing the dishes, she returned to bed. Theodore was already lying down. She naturally snuggled close, seeking his embrace, but he turned away.

"Good night," he mumbled, a clear indication to leave him undisturbed.

Little Bunny felt a pang of loss. He used to hold her close; she'd sometimes push him away, but he'd hold her tighter, as if afraid she'd leave.

Dismissing her feelings, she attributed his behavior to fatigue. She lay beside him and closed her eyes.

Little Bunny's even breathing soon filled the room. Theodore, after confirming she was asleep, turned to look at her.

He wouldn't see her again, would he? He couldn't bear to look at her closely. He reached out to touch her cheek, then withdrew his hand. He felt unworthy of her closeness.

The next morning, Little Bunny awoke to an empty room. Theodore was gone. She searched the house and called him, to no avail.

"What's wrong with Theodore? He's been strange since last night," she thought, eventually deciding he was simply overworked.

Evening arrived. Little Bunny finished a late workday. She'd been arranging her schedule to make amends with Nicholas and visit the amusement park, intending to coordinate with Theodore.

But it was 10:00 PM, and he still hadn't returned. Was he that busy? His phone was off.

Confidential work?

Unable to reach him, she considered waiting on the sofa, then remembered his apparent displeasure at this, and went to bed instead. Exhausted, she fell asleep quickly.

Theodore was still absent when she woke. He didn't return all night.

Another call to Theodore was answered by a woman's coquettish voice. Little Bunny quickly hung up, assuming a wrong number.

She told herself not to overthink it. He must be busy with important, confidential matters. If he was unhappy or wanted to end their relationship, he'd tell her directly; she wouldn't hinder him. As long as he didn't lie, she'd trust him.

Reassured, Little Bunny resumed her day.

At a hotel, Theodore stood by floor-to-ceiling windows, smoking. A woman handed him his phone. "I just talked to her, and she hung up."