Chapter: 1849

“Of course."

Alberto maneuvered his wheelchair back to the Living room, settling in with the patience of a child awaiting Rachel's return.

Soon after, Rachel entered, carrying a blanket in her arms.

It was a modest-sized blanket, which she unfolded and draped over his thighs. Squatting down, she adjusted her position for comfort, wrapping her arms around her knees.

From his seat, Alberto looked down at her, their eyes meeting as she gazed upward.

"Mr. Gibson, I've given it some thought," Rachel began, her voice reflective. "I understand your hesitance about strangers touching your legs. But your legs need care. The last time I massaged them, there was a noticeable response. That means it's effective."

"I don't need it," Alberto interjected, mistaking her intent and quickly dismissing the idea.

"Don't be so quick to refuse," Rachel chided, her eyes twinkling. "I wasn't suggesting you accept a professional masseuse."

Alberto relaxed slightly, his furrowed brow easing as he listened.

"I'm not an expert in massage, and my technique might not be perfect, but it should still help somewhat. I may not have the skills of a professional masseuse, and their techniques might yield quicker results. It might take a few sessions before you notice any improvement with my approach." Noticing the blanket on his leg beginning to slip, Rachel quickly adjusted it, ensuring his comfort.

“However, if you're okay with my less refined technique, I'm willing to give you a massage daily."

As she finished, Rachel carefully adjusted the slipping blanket, then looked up to gauge his reaction. His face, partly concealed by a mask, revealed only a hint of a smile.

Alberto was taken aback, having expected Rachel to distance herself from him.

Rachel, awaiting his response, mistook his silence for displeasure.

"If you'd rather not—"

"Okay."

Alberto agreed, not hesitating for a moment.

Rachel didn't expect it to be so easy. "Mr. Gibson, have you really thought this through?"

"Isn't that a question I should be asking you?" Alberto asked back.

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked in confusion.

After adjusting his wheelchair, Alberto carefully rolled up his trousers. "My legs won't heal overnight. If you're set on using me as a test subject for your techniques, be prepared for potentially disappointing results. Are you ready for that?"

“Of course." Rachel knew that she had to be patient for the results.

Alberto looked at her intently but remained silent.

"Well, Mr. Gibson, let's begin." A smile appeared on Rachel's face.