Lucius said this as he made his way upstairs.
He hadn't planned on going into the master bedroom, feeling that Madeline was being utterly unreasonable. Letting her throw a tantrum would only make things worse for everyone.
But when he opened the door and stepped inside, he saw that she had packed up and discarded a massive pile of her belongings. She didn't even acknowledge his presence.
Lucius finally felt it—Madeline was being cold to him.
In the past, she would have dropped everything the second he walked in. No matter how cold he acted, she was always the first to speak, tracking his every move.
Before her miscarriage, she had been even more radiant, greeting him with a glowing smile every single day.
Her gaze used to overflow with undeniable tenderness and love.
Back then, even when he used work as an excuse to avoid her, she bombarded him with text messages, asking if he had eaten, if he was tired, or how his day went. There were dozens of messages every day, even when he ignored them.
It was as if Madeline were hardwired with a code, programmed to tirelessly love him on an endless loop.
She had changed slightly after losing the baby, but she had still been a devoted wife.
Aside from her occasional emotional breakdowns, she had been flawless. She even took meticulous care of their adopted son, Leo. Lucius vividly remembered a time when Leo fell ill with a high fever. Madeline had panicked, rushing the boy to the city's best children's hospital in the dead of night and staying awake by his bedside until his temperature dropped.
Madeline had been the perfect wife and a perfect mother.
But now, that illusion of perfection was silently fracturing.
Lucius walked up behind her and gently wrapped his arms around her waist.
A sudden wave of nausea hit Madeline. She immediately shoved him away and broke free from his embrace.
Lucius caught her wrist. "Why did you throw out the wedding dress?"


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