Dorothea was still half asleep and didn’t even remember the mark on her cheek. Her eyes looked tired as she said quietly, “It’s nothing. My mom slapped me.”
Latham’s frown only deepened. “Did you put anything on it? Why did she hit you?”
Dorothea gave a small, self-mocking smile. “Because I told her I wanted to cut ties with her. I guess that pushed her over the edge. Sorry, but I’m not planning to invite her to our wedding.”
She figured Latham cared more about her being Layton’s stepdaughter. Sometimes she almost forgot this marriage was just an agreement between them. If that connection disappeared, she wondered if Latham would even want to go through with it.
“If you think my status isn’t good enough, I get it. I don’t mind if you want to marry someone else. We haven’t had the ceremony yet, and we haven’t even taken the wedding photos…”
“Who said I cared about that?” Latham felt like Dorothea was constantly testing his patience.
But when he saw the red mark on her face, something in his chest tightened. “Did you put on any medicine?”
She paused, then shook her head. “No.”
“Wait here.” Latham turned and left the room.
Dorothea didn’t really understand what was happening, but she did as she was told. She leaned against the door frame, fighting to keep her eyes open, resisting the urge to crawl back into bed.
Not long after, Latham came back carrying a first aid kit. Dorothea’s tea-colored hair spilled over her shoulders, a little messy from sleep. The swelling on her cheek made her look even more delicate.
Latham’s breath caught as he bent down and lifted her up in his arms. The surprise jolted Dorothea fully awake.
“Latham, what are you doing?”
Without answering, he carried her into her bedroom and set her gently on the bed. “Just sit still. I’ll put some medicine on for you.”

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