Thalassa had been counting down the days, and finally, Saturday arrived.

She was up at the crack of dawn, 6 a.m., rifling through her wardrobe, trying on several outfits but not quite satisfied with any.

At last, she settled on a youthful avocado-green coat paired with off-white wide-leg pants and a matching trendy sweater.

Standing by the mirror, she examined herself from every angle but still wasn't pleased. Frowning, she felt at a loss over what to wear next.

Behind her, Lysander rolled up in his wheelchair, dressed as impeccably as ever in a handmade black suit and a deep blue tie, exuding an air of aristocratic sophistication without even trying.

Thalassa caught sight of him in the mirror and turned around, their eyes meeting. Suddenly, she felt a little vulnerable and walked over with a slight pout that she herself hadn't noticed, her voice carrying a hint of coquetry.

one," she said, squatting next to his wheelchair and resting her hand on its

my dearest treasures! It's been three years since I last saw them. They must have grown so much, and I... I must have aged. I don't want them to see an older

Don't worry. No matter what, you'll always be the

her that her children's

pondering for a moment, Thalassa stood up and twirled in

smile, Lysander commented, "You look great, youthful, full

in a row at that! like this outfit is a winner. I'm sticking

a servant loading a

with

been three years since she last saw her little darlings. Last time,

had changed that much, the

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