**TITLE: He Returned to Break and Own Me and for His Queen**
**Chapter 58: Oriana’s Promise**
Micah halted abruptly, a wave of astonishment washing over him. Was she really going to help him dry his hair? The thought sent a flurry of emotions racing through his chest, each beat of his heart a testament to his disbelief at such a delightful, unexpected gesture.
He felt a surge of joy mixed with apprehension. This moment was too precious to spoil, yet a nagging uncertainty tugged at him. Was she really expressing her true feelings, or was this an act of kindness masking deeper emotions?
“Oriana?” he called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper as she turned to leave. “If you care, you don’t have to worry about me.”
She froze mid-step, and he felt a flicker of hope. Had he truly been heard?
It dawned on him then—he had locked himself away for far too long, consumed by his own thoughts, likely believing she had abandoned him to tend to Grant.
Taking a deep breath, Oriana stood still, her back to him. She didn’t turn around, but he could sense the strength radiating from her, her clear eyes fixed ahead, brimming with resolve.
“Whether he lives or dies, it’s none of my business,” she declared, her voice steady and unwavering. “The most important thing tonight is to have dinner with you.”
Micah felt his heart swell at her words. “No, not just tonight,” she continued, her tone firm yet tender. “I’m your wife. Every day from now on, I’ll be with you.”
He watched her silhouette, feeling a wave of pure elation wash over him. “Okay. I remember,” he replied, his own voice thick with emotion.
Once he had changed into fresh clothes, Micah settled onto the living room sofa beside Oriana, who was now focused on drying his hair. As she worked, he couldn’t help but notice how his hair had grown longer than he realized. The ends curled slightly, a natural wave that he usually kept slicked back. Today, however, she was daring enough to style it into soft, wavy bangs.
Without his glasses, his eyes sparkled with a clarity he hadn’t seen in a while, and paired with the gentle curls, he felt almost foolishly adorable. Oriana couldn’t suppress her smile, a wave of pride swelling within her as she admired her handiwork.
Micah, for his part, felt no embarrassment. This was his hair, now blown dry by her hands, a simple yet intimate act he had yearned for.
“Come on, the stew’s ready. It’s getting late,” Oriana said, breaking the moment as she stood up.
“Okay,” he replied, a smile still lingering on his lips.
She had prepared three different flavors of stew—clear, spicy, and sour. The aroma wafted through the air, and as Micah caught a glimpse of her bustling about the kitchen, he was struck by how wonderfully ordinary and human she appeared in that moment.
The poised and elegant Oriana was now a vision of warmth and comfort. Her lips were slightly flushed from the spices, and her eyes sparkled with a playful innocence that reminded him of a child. Micah couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.
“Hmm? Did it get on my face?” he asked, feigning innocence, his heart racing with delight.
“No,” Oriana replied, her laughter bubbling forth. “I just think this hairstyle suits you—it’s really cute.”
His heart swelled at her compliment. “Really? Then I’ll keep this hairstyle from now on,” he said, a grin spreading across his face.
To his surprise, Oriana seemed genuinely taken aback by his willingness to change his appearance based on her words. It was a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes about his gentleness.



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