“And why is the house still so dusty? Oh, Geez, just look at those cobwebs up there!” Mrs. Nate raised her voice.The beautiful looking man walked out of the kitchen and to the living room where his inspector of an aunt-in-law stood, squinting her eyes at every part of the house.With a ragged breath from exhaustion, Clarke explained himself. “Aunty, I had woken up some minutes past six and had to get Winifred's things ready for the studio.” “Just that?” Mrs. Nate snorted. “Ironing her clothes, setting her bathe, cleaning her shoes, aside those what else? Yet you can't even hurry with your wife's task and do what's needed in the house. I'm supposed to roll myself in dirt thanks to the chair being all dusty?!”Yep..she really hated him. Hated this ‘lazy’ man who her niece chose to promise ‘for better, for worse’ to.“I'm sorry, aunty. Let me get onto it now. It wouldn't take long,” Clarke said, moving to get the cleaning equipment. It cost him his last ounce of composure to not sigh o

Winifred stepped out of the car, her assistant close behind, holding her tablet and phone as if they were precious artifacts. The morning sun reflected off her brown heeled boots as she adjusted her oversized sunglasses. Her Versace dress hugged her figure, and the brown blazer she wore over it gave her the poised look she always carried.“Wait in the car,” she instructed coolly. “This won’t take long.”“Yes, ma’am,” the assistant replied, stepping back as Winifred sauntered towards the hospital entrance.She wasn’t thrilled about this detour. Contraceptives weren’t exactly something she wanted associated with her name, even in private. But it was necessary. She wasn’t about to let her disastrous marriage to Clarke become even more complicated.As she entered the hospital’s front hall, the cold air-conditioned breeze hit her, along with the unmistakable scent of antiseptic. She wrinkled her nose slightly as her heels clicking against the polished floor. She made her way toward the ph

Once the tub was filled and the water steaming with a faint lavender scent, Clarke returned to the bedroom to inform her. Winifred had been lying on the bed, scrolling through her phone, but she got up reluctantly and went to the bathroom. Clarke followed with his usual expression of calm but weariness.As she sank into the warm water, she leaned her head back against the tub’s edge, closing her eyes briefly. “You’re so slow,” she muttered, barely audible but pointed enough to sting.Clarke didn’t respond. He grabbed the sponge and dipped it into the soapy water. As he began gently sponging her back, he caught the faintest shift in her posture, almost like a sigh.Winifred opened her eyes slightly, watching him from the corner of her gaze. Up close, Clarke’s face was striking, handsome in a way that seemed effortless. His strong jawline and quiet intensity really caught her off guard.Her thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the series of events that had led to this point.The pub. That ni

Clarke stepped into the quiet house just as the faint glow of dawn began peeking over the horizon. It was 3 a.m., and the stillness of the house was broken only by the soft shuffle of his footsteps.He quietly pushed open the door to the bedroom, expecting his wife to be asleep, but Winifred was sitting upright with glasses perched on her nose and surrounded by papers.She looked up as he entered. Her sharp eyes narrowed. “Why are you just coming back now?” she asked, her tone biting. “It took you long enough. And why bother coming back at dawn? Why not wait until morning?”Clarke paused, his hand lingering on the doorframe. Before he could answer, she continued, whining. “Should I also be your mother added to being your wife? Am I supposed to be teaching you about security? You’re a grown man, but you act like a baby. Do I have to worry about you every time you step out?”Clarke smiled faintly. Her words were more teasing than truly angry. He didn’t respond right away, instead shrugg

The morning sun glinted off Winifred’s car as she pulled up to her studio. The parking lot felt heavier today, as if even the building sensed the growing storm within its walls. She straightened her blazer, took a deep breath, and walked in with her usual commanding presence. Though her mind was already preoccupied.Her manager, Ethan, was waiting for her near the reception area with a expression somber. His usual smile was nowhere to be found, replaced by a worried frown.“Winifred,” he called out, walking toward her briskly. “We need to talk. It’s urgent.”Winifred tilted her head slightly, trying to mask the unease creeping into her chest. “What is it now? Another issue with the scripts?"Ethan shook his head. “No, it’s… it’s Gibson.”Her steps faltered. That name always carried weight. Was it because of his money? Or was it because of how she hurt him? Gibson was her ex, her rich boyfriend who was going to propose to her.She swallowed hard and composed herself quickly. “What abo