Chapter 164


    Chapter 164: Is this a marriage proposal?


    Olive’s POV:


    “Aaron… What are you doing?”


    There was a gloomy atmosphere permeating our bedroom, the floor was covered in a mess of broken


    ss and other random objects, and the man I loved was standing stock-still in the middle of the


    debris.


    His tall body was slightly hunched as he stood by the dresser with his back facing me. His knuckles


    were white against the corners of the dresser, the veins in his arms bulging out like an angry bull about


    to charge.


    When he heard my voice, he visibly stiffened, and I felt a chill run through me. I scanned the room


    quickly, my instincts screaming that something was wrong. I was so unsettled, I almost turned on the


    spot and ran away.


    But logic kept me from leaving. This was Aaron, after all. He was the person I loved most in the world. I


    pushed the door wider open and approached him slowly. “Aaron, what’s wrong?”


    Aaron turned around suddenly. He stumbled toward me as if attracted by maism, grabbing me into


    his arms and holding me tightly. “Olive, don’t ever leave me again.”


    His muscles were tense, and as I leaned into him, I could feel him trembling slightly. This version of


    Aaron was unfamiliar, and it scared me. What happened to him?


    I hesitated before lifting my arms to gently stroke Aaron’s back, giving him a fewforting pats.


    “Honey, I won’t leave you. But… What’s wrong with you? You’re worrying me.”


    “Low blood sugar.” His voice was m*ffled in my ear, and his hands were getting tighter and tighter


    around my waist, almost so tight


    Dividing into pages now


    that I couldn’t breathe.


    Did Aaron have diabetes? I was a little confused, but before I could ask any questions, Aaron said,


    “Olive, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”


    His voice was measured and tense, like it was taking him a lot of effort to stay calm. I pulled back from


    his arms and looked up at that handsome face.


    Some of his hair was falling across his forehead, damp with sweat. His entire face was pale, his eyes


    were bloodshot, and his lips were drained of color. There was an unsettling sense of brokenness in his


    demeanor, striking a sharp contrast to the bright-eyed, tireless Aaron ofst night.


    I stood on tiptoe and kissed him softly on the lips. “I wanted to surprise you.”


    I backed away and lifted my skirt to show him a tattoo on my ankle. It was a delicately traced series of


    numbers.


    The string of numbers seemed random, but it was actually his name, encrypted with the date when


    Aaron and I met. I’d had the idea for this tattoo back on the day when I saw the tattoo store while


    shopping with Aaron.


    When Aaron told me about his insecurityst night, I made up my mind to get this tattoo. After he made


    himself vulnerable by telling me how he felt, I really wanted to do something to reassure him. I wanted


    him to know that our rtionship wasn’t just a temporary fling, and that I truly loved and cherished him


    more than anyone else.


    Aaron looked down at the numerical tattoo, unblinking, as if time had frozen around us. Gradually, the


    light returned to his eyes. His fingers trembled slightly, and his breathing caught as his eyes


    slowly crept back up to my face.


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    Seeing Aaron’s reaction, I only felt more confident that I’d made the right decision.


    After a long time, he crouched beside me, lifting my ankle and cing my foot on his knee to inspect.


    He looked at the tattoo for a long time, like it was a piece of rare art or gold jewelry.


    He was looking at my ankle so intently that I was a little embarrassed, and I started to pull my foot


    away.


    But Aaron held my calf lightly in ce, and when he spoke, his voice was even more h*arse and


    ragged than before. “Baby, I still want to look.”


    He stretched out his hand and carefully pressed his cool fingertips to the red, swollen line of numbers.


    “Does it hurt?”


    It was still a little sore, but the love in Aaron’s voice was more than worth the temporary pain. I shook


    my head. “No, it doesn’t hurt.”


    What Aaron said to mest night made me realize that he might be more insecure in our rtionship


    than I was. I didn’t want him to have any doubts, I just wanted him to be happy.


    His hand tightened around my calf, and he raised his head, his eyes glistening with emotion as he


    looked up at me. “Olive, you really are a gift from heaven.”


    I was a little overwhelmed by the heat in his gaze, and I had to look away. But I wanted him to know


    how I felt, so I wet my lips and said softly, “Aaron, this is my first tattoo. I hope you know how much it


    means to me.”


    At that, Aaron’s breathing hitched. His lips crept up into a smile, and then he knelt on one knee in front


    of me, cupped my ankle


    with his right hand, and lowered his head to kiss the tattoo on my ankle.


    His lips were as cold as ice, and I twitched subconsciously at the sensation on the still-tender patch of


    skin.


    “Don’t move.” He gently sped my foot in both hands. “You don’t know how much this tattoo means to


    me, Olive.”


    I blushed, feeling a little shy at his tenderness. “Aaron…”


    Just then, I heard Cinder’s exaggerated gasp from behind me. “Oh my g*d, is this a proposal?”