"You are anything but boring. If you were, would so many women be practically tripping over themselves to marry you?" Thalassa pouted, visibly upset.

Lysander glanced at her with his deep-set eyes, pulling her slender body closer into his embrace while his other hand affectionately ruffled her hair. "Oh? Someone's jealous?" Thalassa attempted to dodge his hand, still sulking. "Jealous? Who's jealous?"

She wouldn't admit it.

"Why do I sense a whiff of sour grapes?" Lysander teased her with his rich, indulgent voice.

Thalassa, a bit miffed, lightly punched Lysander's chest. "But I'm speaking the truth! If I hadn't shown up at that wedding, you'd be married to Rosalind by now, and I'd be out of the picture." "Still hung up on Rosalind, huh?" Lysander's voice was silky smooth as he caught her hand and kissed it again, his lips warm and soothing.

Thalassa wasn't truly mad at Lysander. His hugs, kisses, and comforting words quickly turned her insides to mush.

She looked up at Lysander, letting him hold her hand, and murmured with a slight pout, "Shouldn't I be bothered?"

She didn't realize how much she resembled a petulant child in front of Lysander at that moment.

and independent, always calm and collected. Once someone gets used to being

Lysander, she naturally found herself being

he was as warm as

about this?"

means you care about me," Lysander

a beat, her pulse racing

Lysander cared about whether she cared for him

she cared made

bitterness

worry about

her now, that

youth?

Lysander wasn't dwelling on it

So why should she?

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