Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 73

Aiden's POV

I hadn't intended for us to become a spectacle.

When I lifted Aria into my arms and carried her from the theater, I was fully aware of the attention we would draw, but her wellbeing mattered more than public opinion.

As we made our exit, whispers erupted around us. I felt Aria bury her face against my chest—a futile attempt to hide from the curious stares.

Her embarrassment was evident, but I found her reaction oddly endearing.

Summer, Aria's assistant, finally noticed our departure and came rushing after us. By then, I had already carried Aria outside to where Lucas was waiting with the car.

"Aiden! What happened to Aria?" Summer called out, concern written across her face as she caught up to us.

I carefully settled Aria into the backseat before turning to address her assistant. "Taking her to have her leg examined at the hospital."

Understanding dawned on Summer's face. "Oh! Yes, that's probably for the best."

She stepped back respectfully as Lucas closed the car door.

As we pulled away, I caught sight of Summer in the rearview mirror, watching our departure with what appeared to be an amused smile.

I returned my attention to Aria, who seemed determined to avoid my gaze, her cheeks still flushed.

She remained silent throughout the drive, staring out the window, fingers lightly twisting the hem of her sleeve.

As we pulled up to the hospital entrance, she moved quickly—too quickly—pushing the door open before I could come around to her side.

"Aiden, I can walk!" she insisted, clearly determined to avoid being carried again.

I studied her face for a moment but decided not to argue. If she wanted to preserve her dignity, I'd allow it—for now.

The hospital visit was mercifully quick. The doctor examined Aria's leg, took some X-rays, and confirmed what I had suspected: no serious damage, but she needed to continue resting it.

Despite her protests that she felt fine, I noticed how she winced slightly when putting pressure on that foot.

By the time we finished at the hospital, it was already past noon.

"Would you prefer to eat out or go home?" I asked as we exited the building.

Aria hesitated briefly. "Home?"

I nodded in agreement. Weekend restaurants would be crowded, and I had no desire to share this time with her surrounded by prying eyes and inevitable interruptions.

"Home it is," I instructed Lucas, who was waiting with the car.

As the car pulled away from the hospital, I noticed Aria relaxing slightly in her seat.

The silence between us was comfortable, charged with something unspoken.

I studied her profile—the delicate curve of her jaw, the way her eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks when she looked down.

After several minutes of this, Aria finally turned toward me, her eyebrows drawn together slightly. "Why do you keep staring at me like that?"

"Is it so strange for a man to look at his wife?" I replied, my voice low and controlled despite the surge of possessiveness I felt saying those words.

She opened her mouth as if to argue but then closed it again, clearly at a loss for words. She turned her face away, but not before I caught the blush spreading across her cheeks.

"Why didn't you call me when you had trouble earlier today?" I asked, unable to keep the edge from my voice. The thought of her being mistreated while I was unaware still rankled.

"I'm not used to it," she admitted after a moment's hesitation. "And I didn't think of it at first."

"Next time, I want to be the first person you call," I said firmly. "No matter how minor the issue seems."

She nodded. "I understand."

I took her hand—carefully.

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