Purvi slowly pulled away from Vincenzo.
The warmth of his chest disappeared from her forehead, but the feeling of safety remained for a moment longer.
She looked up at him.
Then her eyes immediately dropped to his injured arm.
The torn sleeve of his shirt had darkened with blood around the wound.
Her heart clenched.
“Does it hurt badly?”
Vincenzo glanced at his arm before looking back at her.
His voice was unexpectedly soft.
“I’m fine.
Don’t worry.”
Purvi tried to smile.
She really did.
But the sight of blood on his arm made something ache painfully inside her.
Why did seeing him hurt feel worse than when she had been injured herself?
She didn’t understand it.
She didn’t want to understand it.
So she simply nodded.
“Come upstairs.”
Vincenzo raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
“You need to clean that.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Vincenzo.”
He stared at her.
Purvi folded her arms.
“Don’t argue with me.”
His eyebrow lifted higher.
“You realize you’re ordering me around?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re enjoying it?”
“No.”
She paused.
“Maybe a little.”
A faint amusement flashed in his eyes.
It disappeared almost immediately.
Purvi turned toward the staircase.
“Come on.”
Vincenzo followed.
Once they reached their bedroom, Purvi immediately went to the cabinet where they kept the first-aid supplies.
She pulled out the box and placed it on the bed.
Then she turned toward him.
“You’ve to remove your shirt.”
Vincenzo looked at her.
“Excuse me?”
Purvi blinked.
“Your shirt.”
“I heard you.”
“Then why are you standing there?”
He sighed.
“Because I can do it myself.”
“Fine.”
Purvi stepped aside.
Vincenzo reached for the buttons with his uninjured hand.
He undid the first one.
Then the second.
When he tried pulling the shirt away from his injured arm, pain shot through him.
His jaw tightened.
He flinched.
Purvi immediately stepped forward.
“I’ll do it.
Hold on.”
“I’m fine.”
“I know.”
She gently caught the fabric.
“That’s your favorite sentence.”
Vincenzo said nothing.
Purvi carefully eased the shirt from his shoulders.
When the shirt finally came off, she froze for a second.
Vincenzo’s body was marked with years of violence.
Old scars crossed his shoulders and torso.
But tonight, she wasn’t looking at any of them.
Her eyes were fixed on his arm.
The graze was deep enough to look painful.
The skin was scraped badly, with a thin line of dried blood around the edges.
It wasn’t a life-threatening injury.
But it wasn’t nothing either.
Purvi’s lips pressed together.
“You call this a scratch?”
“It is.”
“You have a very strange definition of scratch.”
She reached for the antiseptic.
Vincenzo sat on the edge of the bed.
Purvi moved closer.
“Tell me if it hurts.”
“I won’t.”
She looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because you already worry too much.”
Purvi didn’t answer.
She began cleaning the wound.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Her fingers were gentle.
Vincenzo watched her in silence.
She wasn’t talking anymore.
Her usual smile had disappeared.
She was completely focused on his arm.
Every few seconds, she glanced at his face.
Whenever she saw the smallest change in his expression, her movements became even gentler.
“You can stop looking at me,” Vincenzo finally said.
“I’m not looking at you.”
“You’ve looked at me six times.”
Purvi frowned.
“Because I’m checking if you’re in pain.”
“I’m not.”
She shook her head.
“You’re impossible.”
“So you’ve told me.”
She smiled faintly.
Then continued cleaning the wound.
But suddenly, a warm drop landed on his arm.
Vincenzo’s eyes moved downward.
Another drop followed.
He looked at Purvi.
She quickly wiped her cheek.
She hadn’t even realized she was crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Vincenzo stared at her.
“Why are you crying?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Purvi sniffled and tried smiling.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
She looked at his wound.
“I don’t know.”
Vincenzo remained silent.
“I’m the one who’s injured,” he said slowly, “but you’re crying.”
Purvi laughed weakly.
“Exactly.”
She wiped another tear.
“You’re always fine.”
Vincenzo frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“Even with a knife injury.”
She carefully wrapped the bandage around his arm.
“You say you’re fine.”
She secured the dressing.
“You say it’s nothing.”
She smoothed the edge of the bandage.
“You walk around like nothing can happen to you.”
She finally looked into his eyes.
“But you’re not made of stone, Vincenzo.”
He didn’t respond.
Purvi stepped back.
She looked at the bandage one last time.
“It should be changed tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“And you should have a doctor look at it.”
“No.”
She sighed.
“I knew you’d say that.”
Vincenzo almost smiled.
Almost.
Purvi began packing the first-aid supplies away.
Then she stopped.
Her shoulders dropped slightly.
When she turned back toward him, her expression was softer.
“I know you don’t consider me your wife.”
Vincenzo’s eyes narrowed.
Purvi smiled gently.
“But please…”
Her voice trembled.
“Just take care of yourself.”
He stared at her.
“I know I’ve no right to tell you what to do.”
She sniffled.
“But I don’t like seeing any of my family in pain.”
The word hung between them.
Family.
Vincenzo looked away for a moment.
Purvi continued.
“And right now…”
She swallowed.
“You’re my family.”
Something shifted inside him.
“Till this contract ends,” she added quietly.
There it was again.
The contract.
The reminder should have made him feel relieved.
Instead, it irritated him.
More than it should have.
Purvi smiled through her tears.
“So please.”
She stepped closer.
“Don’t put your life at risk.”
“Purvi—”
“I know it’s your job.”
Her voice remained gentle.
“I know what kind of life you live.
I know danger is probably normal for you.”
She looked down.
“But that doesn’t mean you have to make it worse.”
Vincenzo’s expression hardened slightly.
“Sometimes I don’t have a choice.”
“I know.”
She nodded.
“But you have a choice to be careful.”
Silence.
“Please think about your family.”
Vincenzo looked at her.
“Especially Grandma.”
Purvi wiped her cheek again.
“Think about what would happen to her if something happened to you.”
That struck somewhere deeper.
Vincenzo’s jaw tightened.
Purvi saw it.
She smiled softly.
“I’m not saying this because I’m trying to control you.”
“I know.”
“I’m saying it because…”
She paused.
Her voice became quieter.
“I don’t want to lose anyone else.”
Vincenzo’s eyes changed.
For a moment, the coldness disappeared.
He understood that sentence wasn’t only about him.
Purvi had already lost enough.
She didn’t want to lose another person she had begun to call family.
Even if that person constantly reminded her that she was only temporary.
Her tears fell again.
She smiled anyway.
“So please.”
She looked directly into his eyes.
“Do it for your family’s sake.”
A small pause.
“If not mine.”
Vincenzo’s chest tightened.
He didn’t know what to say.
Purvi quickly turned away before he could see how emotional she had become.
“I’ll get you turmeric milk.”
Vincenzo blinked.
“What?”
“Turmeric milk.”
“I don’t need turmeric milk.”
“You don’t need anything according to you.”
He sighed.
“Purvi.”
She looked over her shoulder.
“You’re going to drink it.”
“I hate turmeric milk.”
“You’ll survive.”
“I doubt it.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
She picked up the first-aid box.
Then she walked toward the door.
Before leaving, she paused.
“Please don’t scare us like that again.”
Vincenzo watched her.
Purvi smiled through the tears still sitting in her eyes.
Then she walked out.
The door closed quietly behind her.
Vincenzo remained seated on the edge of the bed.
His injured arm rested against his thigh.
He stared at the bandage.
Then at the closed door.
Family.
Those words shouldn’t have affected him.
They were simple.
Purvi had only been reminding him that, for the duration of their contract, she considered him family.
Nothing more.
At least, that was what he told himself.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about the tears that had fallen onto his wound.
She had been more distressed by his injury than he had been.
She had been terrified when he didn’t come home.
And now she had asked him to stay alive—not because she expected anything from him, but because she didn’t want his family to suffer.
Vincenzo leaned back slightly.
For the first time that night, his expression softened.
“You’re too much trouble,” he murmured.
Yet there was no irritation in his voice.
Only something dangerously close to tenderness.
And downstairs, Purvi was already in the kitchen, preparing the turmeric milk with a small smile on her face.
She still didn’t understand why her heart hurt so much whenever Vincenzo was hurt.
But maybe…
She was beginning to care about him far more than a contract wife was supposed to.