Her Husband Claims He Has No Function For Love Yet His Pulse Races Around Her Chapter 06

Her Husband Claims He Has No Function For Love Yet His Pulse Races Around Her Chapter 06

Rowan had a solid constitution. His fever broke overnight, 

and he was up early like always. 

I, on the other hand, slept until noon thanks to taking care of 

him. 

Listening to the clatter of prep work from the kitchen, I flipped onto my stomach and decided to scroll through my 

phone before getting up. 

Freya had sent me that post first thing in the morning. 

Her message: [God, I’m dying. Alien Bro got completely lovestruck by his wife and still acting tough about it!] 

My curiosity snagged. I clicked in. 

[Thank you for your suggestions. I tried all of them.] 

[I mimicked the other person by placing food in my wife’s bowl. I went shirtless after arriving home. However, when I attempted to follow the instructions and kiss my wife directly, my morph suddenly malfunctioned with a persistent high fever. The attempt failed.] 

[Still, my wife kissed my cheek as promised and stayed by my side the entire night. I believe these methods are working. My wife is starting to come around.] 

[But I feel very strange.] 

[Due to the elevated temperature, my body was sore and swollen, and my brain was not clear. These are clearly negative conditions. Yet when my wife held me, my heart rate was slow and steady.] 

[There’s a faint, subtle scent on her skin. We use the same body wash, yet I have no such fragrance. It soothes me, lulls me into a daze. It’s dangerous, and I must be cautious.] 

[What else do I need to do going forward?] 

The commenters delivered their verdict: 

[Dude literally got half–naked to seduce his wife and ended up with a fever. She took care of him, he got drunk on her scent, and now he’s trying to set up parental controls on himself?] 

[At this point, just give in. You fell in love. So what? Is falling for an Earthling some kind of disgrace on your planet?] 

The OP stayed stubborn to the end: 

[No. Because I truly do not love my wife.] 

[I am doing all of this solely to ensure the continuation of this marriage and avoid deportation.] 

The more I read, the stranger it felt. 

Serving food, sudden fever, a soft kiss on the cheek… every detail mirrored exactly what happened between Rowan and me last night. 

Could Rowan be the one who wrote this post? 

Was Rowan an alien? 

“Awake? Come eat lunch.” 

Rowan stood in the doorway and rapped his knuckles twice against the frame. 

Snapped me right back to reality. 

I gave an “Oh” and watched his retreating back, zoning out 

again. 

Could it be Rowan? 

Lost in tangled thoughts, I ducked my head and commented under the OP’s question: 

[You can try kissing your wife again. If she doesn’t reject it, 

that means she has feelings for you.] 

[If that’s the case, she won’t divorce you easily.] 

Then I put my phone away and got up. 

At the table, I don’t know if it was nerves or guilt, but I failed 

to pick up a single rib two or three times. 

Rowan calmly reached over, placing the rib into my bowl 

without a single change in his expression. 

“Thanks.” 

“Mm.” 

Plain, indifferent, as always. 

However, it didn’t stop there. 

After the meal, Rowan moved between the living room and 

kitchen, cleaning up. I deliberately curled up on the couch, right where he could see me. I pretended to nap until I 

drifted off for a real. 

When I woke, he was still just sitting there quietly, absorbed 

in his book. 

Okay. Guess I’d read too much into it. Rowan wasn’t the OP. 

He’d told me himself he didn’t believe aliens existed. 

A little let down, I shut my eyes and let out a breath. I stood up, only to bump straight into a firm chest. 

I opened my eyes. Rowan steadied me, his arm around my 

waist. 

“Ah, sorry. I didn’t see you there.” 

I scrambled backward. My calf hit the couch, and inertia dropped me back into the cushions. 

Rowan followed. 

He dropped to one knee, arms braced on either side of my body. His face drew close, gaze soft and reverent. 

Like he was begging for love. 

The moment I realized it, his soft lips were already on mine. 

It began with timid, tentative touches, then shifted into quiet certainty, his kiss growing firmer and more intense. 

Before long, he surrendered to the longing, clinging to me, unwilling to pull away. 

My husband didn’t not love me. He just loved me so much. 

he couldn’t believe he loved me. 

I saw it in the tenderness pooling in his eyes. 

Rowan’s lashes trembled, silent, like he was calculating a 

complex project. 

The solution he arrived at was kissing. 

I pressed a hand against his chest and asked, “Why are you 

kissing me, Rowan? Do you love me?” 

“This is what married couples do.” 

Rowan answered flatly, ignoring the pressure of my hand, 

and leaned in again. 

It was the answer I’d expected, really. 

But humans are greedy. Before you get love, you want it. The 

second you get it, it’s not enough. 

You want to be acknowledged and confirmed. 

I covered Rowan’s mouth. Felt the dampness against my 

palm. My voice came out dry. 

“This is what people in love do, Rowan. It’s not in the 

marriage contract. 

“Marriage only guarantees we won’t separate.”