Chapter 471
Olivia was drenched in sweat, unsure if it was the heater or the fever consuming her. A tear lingered at the corner of her eye, her vision blurred by the relentless heat.
Tyler held her arms gently for a long moment before finally releasing them. “Lie down,” he urged quietly.
Obedient, Olivia shifted her body but kept her eyes locked on him.
“I’m really okay, Tyler,” she whispered again.
“I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about the baby,” he explained, settling beside her.
Her gaze dropped as she murmured, “I know.”
She hadn’t expected him to care so deeply for her well-being.
“Drink some water,” Tyler said.
Despite how worn out she looked, he rose to fill a glass from the kettle. Returning, he offered it to her with steady hands.
Olivia noticed he still wore the same clothes as on TV—he must have just come back. The calm, composed man she admired on screen was now here, beside her. It all felt like a dream.
Tyler helped her sit up after fetching the water. She closed her eyes the moment he lifted her, bowing her head low as he supported her.
He moved to feed her the water, but his chin brushed lightly against the top of her head as he looked down.
Unaware of the closeness, Olivia felt an odd flutter inside. She intended to drink once upright but dizziness overwhelmed her, and she lacked the strength to sit straight.
Tyler watched quietly as she lay weakly in his arms, her chin lifting instinctively.
Her head spun; she was too drained to think clearly. When he raised her chin gently, she looked up reflexively, lips slightly parted.
In that fragile moment, she looked like a timid little rabbit lost in a daze.
Tyler masked the grimness in his eyes as he brought the glass to her lips with calm precision.
Olivia drank greedily the moment her lips touched the glass.
As Tyler’s hand moved to the back of her head, his fingers threading softly through her hair, his voice softened unconsciously. “Slower.”
Though she finished the glass quickly, Olivia was still thirsty.
“Want more?” he asked.
Without meeting his gaze, she nodded faintly.
Tyler eased her from his embrace, poured another glass, and returned to gently cradle her as he continued offering water.
After just two sips, nausea overtook her. She turned her head away, accidentally knocking the glass aside, almost causing Tyler to lose his balance.
But she couldn’t bring herself to vomit.
After a moment, he lifted her chin, worry creasing his brow.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.
Olivia met his eyes, gasping for breath.
Tyler’s heart sank seeing her like this—her flushed face now pale, breaths shallow and ragged. Strands of damp hair clung to her fair neck; her pajama collar was slightly askew.
In that fragile state, with her reddened lips parted, she looked as delicate as porcelain, weakened by illness.
Their eyes locked, the silence between them heavy with unspoken concern.