Annoyance flickered in Alice's eyes as she hammered out a reply on her laptop. [Alice: Sorry, something came up. I can't give you a ride after all. *crying emoji*]

Upstairs, Anastasia hurried into her bedroom, carefully set the bouquet of flowers in place, and then headed back down. To her surprise, Harrison was still waiting in the living room.

She hesitated for a moment, then crossed the room and sank into the armchair beside him the seat closest to where he sat.

"Did you put the flowers away?" Harrison asked.

"Mhm!" Anastasia nodded, then her delicate brows knitted together in worry. "I just hope they don't wilt too quickly. Maybe I should find a bigger vase and add more water? That way, at least they'd stay fresh a bit longer."

Harrison's stern expression softened as he watched how seriously she considered the fate of those flowers. Clearly, she cared about them-a lot.

"Why were you upset this morning?" His voice was gentler now.

Caught off guard, Anastasia glanced at him, then pouted and muttered something under her breath.

"What was that?" Harrison leaned in, not quite catching her words.

She looked up, her voice louder and full of indignation. "I said, why did you let Alice change your bandages last night?"

Her cheeks puffed out in frustration. "You have a wife, don't you? How could you let another woman do something like that? Shouldn't you at least act like a married man?"

Logan, who'd been quietly sipping water nearby, choked mid-swallow.

Both Anastasia and Harrison turned to look at him.

Harrison narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

Logan stiffened, quickly set down his glass, grabbed a stack of files, and put on his most professional face. "Uh, Mr. Lancaster, I'll just go put these in the study."

He beat a hasty retreat, not daring to linger in case the newlywed Mr. Lancaster decided he was in the way.

Once Logan had gone, Harrison looked back at Anastasia, taken aback by her reaction, a strange feeling stirring in his chest.

"...You were upset because of that?"

"Isn't it a good enough reason?" Anastasia's voice grew small and forlorn, her bright eyes suddenly clouded over. "Or do you not think of me as your wife, just because we haven't signed the papers yet?"

Harrison paused. "...That's not what I think."

For once, the decisive, unyielding Mr. Lancaster seemed at a loss.

Seeing his young wife so disheartened, he sighed, helpless. "I never asked Alice to change my bandages. Thomas always does it, but he had to leave early last night, so I told him to ask one of the housekeepers to help. Who told you it was Alice?"

"Really?" Anastasia's head shot up, her eyes lighting up again.

"Really," he replied, his voice unconsciously gentle.

A smile broke across Anastasia's face, and she grabbed his arm, her tone playful

but tinged with shyness. "So, when are we going to make it official?"

She tried to sound nonchalant, but a hint of embarrassment crept through.

Harrison hesitated, then replied coolly, "Once my leg's healed, alright?"

Moments later, Anastasia bounded upstairs, humming to herself as she searched for a larger vase for the flowers.

Harrison watched her graceful figure disappear up the staircase, and his gaze darkened. He gripped the armrest a little tighter, shadows flickering across his face.

Eyes closed, he felt a heavy weight settle over him.

Marriage?

A dying man like himself-did he really have the right to tie down a girl like her?

He'd never cared about this sort of thing before, but with Anastasia... suddenly, he wasn't so sure anymore.