Beauty lounged on the sofa, nibbling on snacks as she watched her husband bustling about in the kitchen, a warm contentment blooming in her chest.
Soon, the kitchen door swung open, and in strode none other than CEO Marson, now sporting an apron that gave him the unmistakable air of a devoted househusband—a sight that pleased her immensely.
"I'll leave the thermos on her bedside table with a note reminding her to drink when she wakes up, and then we can head home," Lucas said calmly, plucking a pen and paper from the table.
His handwriting flowed effortlessly across the page, bold and sharp, instantly recognizable as his own.
By the time they stepped out of the apartment complex, the snow had quietly ceased.
Only a few stubborn flakes clung to the osmanthus trees lining the road, while a thin layer of snow crunched softly underfoot with each step.
Their car soon vanished into the thick night.
