"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.

Once someone gets used to being

with Lysander, she naturally found

in front of Thalassa, he was as warm as the sun, melting all the cold inside her. "Of course, you can be bothered.

about this?"

means you care about me," Lysander

a beat, her pulse racing with

whether

she cared made

moment, all the bitterness and frustration

about the

cared about her now, that was all that

in their youth? She herself had a deeply

wasn't dwelling on it

So why should she?

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