That day, I returned from the cemetery to our villa, the place that was supposed to be our marital home. Yet, Alexander rarely set foot here. It was more of a shared residence with my son, Lucas.
The echoes of Lucas’s laughter, his tiny footprints, and the remnants of his toys were everywhere. Each memory of my son was a dagger to my heart, and I wept bitterly as I began clearing away the traces of our life together. Every remembrance of Lucas and me had to go, or I would drown in my grief.
As I dragged my suitcase downstairs, I ran into Alexander. He was carrying Cassandra into the house, his face etched with concern. He brushed past me, treating me like a stranger under the same roof. His eyes never even glanced my way. I had grown accustomed to this. With Cassandra around, I was invisible to him.
Upon seeing the suitcase at my feet, Alexander stopped in his tracks. His voice was devoid of emotion. "Natalie Collins, another one of your dramatic stunts?"
Meanwhile, Cassandra, clinging affectionately to Alexander's neck, looked up at me with a smirk. "Natalie, I twisted my ankle, and since Alexander said it's close by, he brought me here to take care of it. You don't mind, do you?"