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13

Marco and I dined together once more because he arrived home early. I concealed my agony, knowing that even a slight arm movement would trigger it.

I appreciated Marco's silence and lack of curiosity. It spared me from creating excuses in case he inquired about my visit to my father.

As I prepared to ascend to our bedroom, Marco grasped my arm and spun me around. He inadvertently brushed against the bruise, causing me to emit a gasp of pain.

"Ah!"

Momentarily, Marco's brow creased with concern, but he swiftly masked his emotions.

"I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," I said, while I averted my gaze, attempting to conceal my pain-ridden expression.

Marco commanded, "Show me your arm."

Confused, I deliberately feigned ignorance, saying, "Sorry, what?"

"Don't play dumb, Maddie. You heard me," Marco responded firmly, signaling for me to comply. When Marco used my name in that tone, it carried a different meaning.

I reluctantly revealed my arm, and Marco gingerly laid his hand on it
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