The dining room in the Bradley Manor was bathed in the cold glow of a massive crystal chandelier.I took a small mouthful of my oats porridge.Across from me, Caden Bradley methodically cut into the fried egg on his plate. The knife and fork scraped against porcelain in a steady, grating rhythm.For three years, this had been the extent of our marriage.Silence.The silence was stifling and heavy.I attempted to bridge the gap. Again and again, I reached out to him, only to be rebuffed with colder indifference and the slow death of my own hope.Eventually, I gave up hope, along with every dream I'd ever had about our future.I set down my spoon as nausea rolled through my stomach. It was not morning sickness, just pure revulsion of having remained in this hollow marriage for so long.I picked up the document beside me and slid it to the center of the table."Caden, sign it," I said, my voice calm and steady, as though I was commenting on the weather.His movements stopped. T
Magbasa pa
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