Harry Hunter took the ring and slipped it onto Isabella Weaver's ring finger: "You're not allowed to take it off anymore. A married woman should look like she's married. You're too beautiful, wearing this can keep the wolves away."
Isabella Weaver couldn't help but burst into laughter. How could a ring keep the wolves away?
But he said she was beautiful...
Suddenly, Isabella Weaver was in a good mood.
Harry Hunter gently lifted her chin, making her face him, and removed the band-aid from her forehead.
"Does it still hurt?"
Isabella Weaver shook her head: "No, it doesn't hurt."
She had forgotten about the wound on her head all day. Everyone she met today, whether it was her roommate, Milo Field, or the people at the gallery, no one asked about her forehead.
But he remembered.
Isabella Weaver felt a twinge in her nose.
A new band-aid was put on her forehead, followed by a gentle kiss: "Goodnight."
The kiss was so quick that Isabella Weaver didn't have time to pull away.
