The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet novel Chapter 1961

Thalassa saw him struggling and immediately went to take the object from his hands. "Let me handle this. You should sit down and take a break," she said.

She hadn't forgotten that Lysander's leg had only recently healed. The frequent bending and standing could overburden it. If his leg suffered any more issues, she would never forgive herself.

Thalassa reached for the ice pack that Lysander was holding, but he dodged and said firmly, "Don't move. You can't apply it properly yourself; let me do it."

With that, he gently lifted her foot and placed it on his thigh, carefully positioning the cloth-wrapped ice pack on her ankle. He was cautious, worrying the cold might be too much for her.

As soon as it touched her skin, Lysander asked with concern, "How does it feel? Too cold?"

Looking into Lysander's tender, caring eyes, Thalassa felt her throat tighten. She shook her head, "No, it's actually quite soothing."

No man had ever been so gentle with her. Her mother, though loving, was always preoccupied with her own interests, often engrossed in poker games rather than providing the care Thalassa longed for.

Now, as Lysander resumed his task, applying the ice pack with such care, Thalassa felt a warmth she seldom knew. Even though she assured him it felt fine, Lysander remained cautious, not pressing the ice pack too hard against her skin, ensuring the cold was bearable.

After alternating the ice pack between her feet, Lysander released Thalassa's foot. "There, take a rest now."

He attempted to stand, but a spasm in his thigh muscle seized him, echoing the pain from the day before. The ice pack fell to the floor as he struggled to maintain his balance, hands pressing against the ground.

"Lysander!" Thalassa noticed his discomfort and quickly got out of bed, rushing to his aid. Seeing him wince in pain, she was on the verge of tears, "Lysander, what's wrong? Can't you walk again? What do we do..."

Panic-stricken and without her phone nearby to call for help, Thalassa dared not move him, fearing any wrong move could worsen his condition.

In the midst of her turmoil, Lysander's pained yet steady voice cut through, "Don't worry, it'll pass in a bit. Go back to bed and rest; just leave me be."

Biting back his pain, Lysander focused on the sensations coursing through his body, unwilling to distract himself with comforting Thalassa. He had experienced a similar pain the day before but had recovered quickly. He hoped today would be no different.

Reluctantly, Thalassa loosened her grip on Lysander, heart aching as she felt utterly helpless. She covered her mouth to stifle her sobs and obediently returned to the bed.

Lysander's words had been calm yet authoritative, leaving Thalassa no choice but to comply. Lysander was always composed and wise; if he said he didn't need help, it meant he truly didn't want it.

And with her worry clouding her judgment, Thalassa knew she couldn't be of any real assistance. All she could do was watch Lysander endure the pain silently, careful not to disturb him, her tears falling freely.

She feared that Lysander's leg might have only temporarily improved, only to deteriorate again, possibly leaving him unable to walk.