Lucas with calm and careful movements, spooned the warm porridge into his wife's mouth. Not hurried, not cold like he usually was. His face was filled with patience, as if the outside world no longer mattered.
Haisley looked at him in confusion. This wasn't the Lucas she knew, not the cold man who usually buried himself under piles of documents and endless business calls.
"You're... not working?" she asked softly, her brows slightly furrowed in disbelief.
Lucas gave a faint smile, his gaze warm but guarded. "I want to be here. With my wife."
"There's a nurse who can do that, you know. You don't have to leave your job," Haisley replied, still struggling to believe the man before her was the same Lucas.
Lucas placed the spoon back into the bowl for a moment and looked at his wife with unfamiliar eyes. Eyes that held something more than just love—there was fear, there was anger buried deep, and a wound that had not yet healed.
