Chapter 1

I stared at the number "3" for a long time.

Lucas Bolton took off his coat, hanging it on the right side of the entryway just like he always did, before bending down to slip into the gray slippers I had bought him.

Every single move he made was identical to the past seven years.

Had it not been for that glowing, blinding red number, I might have believed everything I’d just seen was a complete hallucination.

"Why aren't you asleep yet?"

He walked over and reached out to stroke my face.

His palm was warm, his fingertips slightly calloused from years of flipping through legal files.

I didn't pull away. I just looked at him and asked, "Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary. Do you still remember?"

Lucas let out a soft laugh, affectionately pinching my cheek.

"Of course I remember. I've already booked the restaurant. 7 p.m., at that waterfront table you love so much.

"My phone will be turned off. No work talk, no clients. The entire night is all yours. How does that sound?"

The next second, his phone buzzed on the coffee table.

The screen lit up, displaying a contact name with just a single letter: H.

The moment Lucas saw it, his expression tightened. He grabbed the phone and headed out onto the balcony. Before the sliding glass door fully shut, I caught the sound of a woman’s panicked sobbing coming through the receiver.

A few minutes later, Lucas stepped back inside and picked up the coat he had just taken off.

"A situation came up with a client. I have to head over."

I looked right at him. "It’s one in the morning. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"It’s a domestic abuse divorce case. Her ex-husband keeps harassing her, and her kid is at home too. As her lawyer, I can't just ignore it."

His tone was patient, like an attorney explaining basic legal protocol to an unreasonable client.

"Go to sleep first. Don't wait up for me."

That faint, lingering scent of gardenia on his sleeve caught my attention again.

"Even so, she can't be calling you first every single time something goes wrong."

Lucas frowned.

"Emma, I'm her attorney. You used to never interfere with my work."

I looked up at the "3" above his head, and suddenly, I didn't want to ask anything anymore.

In our seven years of marriage, I really had never interfered with his career.

When he read case files until dawn, I made coffee and snacks for him. When he pulled back-to-back late nights at the law firm preparing for trial, I packed and organized his fresh clothes.

He fought cases for people with nowhere else to turn, but he never crossed the line between lawyer and client in the name of goodwill.

I used to be so proud of his professionalism and his boundaries. But at some point, his professional duty had crossed the doors of his law firm, invading our late nights, our holidays, and the life that was supposed to belong only to us.

"Go ahead." I stepped aside to clear his path.

Lucas seemed surprised that I agreed so easily. He froze for a second before leaning down to kiss my forehead.

"I'll be back soon."

The house fell quiet once again.

As I stood by the entryway, my eyes landed on the framed photo from our trip to Aspen sitting on the shoe rack.

In the photo, Lucas wrapped his arms around me from behind, his smile even warmer than the snow falling around us.

Back then, he asked me what we would do if we ever got into a fight. I had told him with absolute confidence, “As long as you're still willing to see me, we can always work things out.”

It turned out, even if two people still see each other, their hearts can be worlds apart.

I walked back into the bedroom and dialed my college classmate, Ava Henderson. She was now a top attorney specializing in divorce litigation.

The phone rang for a long time before she finally answered.

"Emma? Did something happen? You never call this late."

I stared at the half-empty bed, my voice barely a whisper.

"Help me draft a divorce agreement."