Dilbert Walker fell into a prolonged silence.
"Aren't you going to say anything?" Yolanda Bardot waited until her tears had dried, puffing her cheeks in anger. "I know I'm not as important as him in your heart."
"You two are different; you can't be compared." Dilbert reached out to stroke her hair, his eyes filled with deep affection.
But Yolanda Bardot completely ignored this, showing no intention of letting him go, and continued to interrogate him, "Tell me, do you love me or him?"
"...You..."
Dilbert knew he couldn't escape this ordeal, so he coaxed her softly with a perfunctory smile and swiftly changed the topic, "Alright, Yolanda, we should thank Mr. Arthur. He moved us to a special ward where no one will disturb us, so you can recover more peacefully."
"What did you just say? Your voice was too low; I didn't hear it." Yolanda Bardot persisted.
"...Yolanda..." Dilbert's expression turned grim again.
He inexplicably started to harbor suspicion towards his wife.
