No Strings Attached

Chapter 69

lan sat on the edge of Clara’s hospital bed, cradling her delicate hands within his own, continually bringing them to his lips for gentle kisses.

His mind was a whirlwind of the doctor’s words. He knew Clara couldn’t swim, but he had never realized she was phobic about water. It finally made sense why, whenever they had sex in the bathroom, Clara would never step into the tub no matter how he teased and coaxed her. Her fear of water ran deeper than he’d ever imagined.

lan gazed at Clara’s pallid face, his voice a raspy whisper. “Clara, what else don’t I know about you?”

He was oblivious to the missing chapter in her life seven years ago and to the man who held a special place in her heart. He didn’t even know if her previous kindness toward him contained even a shred of love.

Ian tenderly stroked her cheek, bending down to press his lips to her cold ones. “Clara, I want to know everything about you. Please wake up and tell me, can you do that?”

He had never before felt such an urgent need to thoroughly understand someone. He even felt a twinge of jealousy thinking about Anders, who had spent four years of college with her. Those must have been her most radiant days.

In her coma, Clara felt someone speaking to her. That voice was as captivating as it had been back then. At the lowest point of her life, when she was filled with disappointment towards the world, it was this voice that pulled her out of hell.

Slowly regaining consciousness, Clara envisioned a man in a starched white shirt and black trousers, his expression stern. He sat in a wheelchair, his gaze unfocused as he

looked at her.

He told her he was blind and asked her to pick up his cane.

He spoke of his time at the prestigious hf University, and his numerous international awards.

His robot design was on the verge of a successful market launch.

He owned a vast conglomerate, with assets in the billions.

But now, with a crippled leg and blinded eyes, he was bidding farewell to it all.

He narrated his woes as though they belonged to someone else, his beautiful face betraying no sign of agony.

It was this man who had captivated Clara. She descended from the roof, approached him, and placed the fallen cane back into his hands.

From then on, the man in the wheelchair, blind yet brilliant, invaded her life. She didn’t

know his name. She only knew him as Number 99.

He shared with her tales of his travels abroad, and imparted knowledge she had never known before.

Gradually, her condition stabilized. She assisted with his physical therapy, and walked with him in the gardens.

He often said, “I can’t see you, but can I hear your voice?”

Clara understood he was encouraging her to speak.

Then one day, she awoke from a dream in which he vanished from her life. She cried out, “Mr. Nine, don’t go.”

Shocked, she covered her mouth, barely breathing. Her speech had returned. She could converse normally with him.

She ran to his hospital room, intending the first words she spoke to him to be, “Mr. Nine, when I grow up, can I marry you?” Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

But when she arrived, the room was empty. She later learned he had gone abroad for eye surgery. Even if she wanted to find him, she didn’t even know his name.