?Chapter 869:


    That night, Rachel workedte into exhaustion, eventually falling asleep on the couch.


    The living room was chilled by the air conditioning, and An stirred awake in the middle of the night. Noticing her curled up on the sofa, he got up, intending to grab a nket from the bedroom to drape over her. But after just a few steps, his legs faltered beneath him.


    Each step felt like treading on air—weightless, unsteady.


    At first, he brushed it off as his imagination.


    But after a week, one morning, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed only to realize he couldn’t move one of them. He forced himself to stand, but every step was a battle, his legs heavy as iron, resisting his every move.


    Still, he gritted his teeth and pushed forward, making his way to the kitchen at a painstaking pace.


    Hearing footsteps, Rachel nced over her shoulder, her face lighting up.


    “An, you’re just in time! I made eggs with my own recipe—try it. Oh, and you mentioned craving fish yesterday. It’s on the stove now. Just a few more minutes, and it’ll be perfect.” Her voice bubbled with excitement.


    But before she could turn back to the stove, an arm slipped around her waist, pulling her into a firm embrace. An pressed his forehead against her back, holding her as if grounding himself.


    Rachel stiffened, caught off guard.


    “An… what’s wrong? Why are you suddenly acting like this?”


    In all the years they’d been together, he’d never clung to her like this before. His grip tightened slightly, his voice barely above a whisper.


    “Rachel… my condition’s getting worse. This morning, I could barely walk.”


    For a long moment, Rachel said nothing.


    She didn’t turn. She didn’t speak.


    She couldn’t even bring herself to cry out loud, her silent tears falling into the pot of boiling broth.


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    When she finally steadied herself, she began to form the words to suggest a wheelchair.


    But before she could, An spoke first.


    “In a few days, there’s an important meeting, right? You and Lizzie should go. And when you’re back… let’s go together and get a wheelchair custom-made. What do you think?”


    Rachel was ovee with emotion for a moment before she nodded resolutely.


    “Sure,” she said with firm determination.


    While they were eating, An looked at her and asked,


    “Did you finish packing? Is there anything at work you’re still unsure about?”


    “I’m all set. Lizzie and I will attend the conference, and Alban will stay behind to look after you.”


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