Max shadowed her closely, ready to catch her if she fell. Felicia managed to walk a short distance without stumbling. A joyful smile bloomed across her face, and as she turned her head, her gaze crashed straight into Max’s profound, dark eyes. Perhaps it was the warm light of the setting sun, but he looked unusually gentle in that moment.
"There's no need to rush," he murmured. "Take your time."
Felicia looked away and gave a quiet hum of agreement. "It's getting dark. Let's head back."
Max scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to the wheelchair. After settling her in, he crouched down and began brushing the sand off the soles of her feet.
"You..." Felicia started, feeling a tickle on her soles. She tried to pull her foot back, but her legs still lacked strength, and Max’s grip on her ankle was firm.
Anne crouched down beside him, using the hem of her little skirt to help wipe her mother's feet.
"Anne, your dress is getting dirty," Felicia hurriedly protested.
Anne just looked up at her mother. "Daddy will buy me a new dress."
Once Max had slipped Felicia's shoes back on, he picked Anne up and carried her to the water's edge to rinse her tiny feet. Suddenly feeling playful, Anne splashed her feet against the water, erupting into a fit of giggles.
Max held her up and dipped her up and down over the waves a couple of times. "Alright, playtime is over," he chuckled, setting her down and letting her wipe her wet feet dry on her pants.
Sitting in the wheelchair, Felicia watched the father and daughter share the tender moment.
Max carried Anne back, slipped her shoes on, and then began pushing the wheelchair. Anne walked alongside them, her small hand resting on the armrest. By the time they took a golf cart back to the manor, the sky had completely darkened.
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