The soft click of the door echoed faintly as Lucian left for work. The quiet that followed seemed to hum around the house — gentle, rhythmic, almost too peaceful. Aveline stood there for a moment, her fingertips still resting on the edge of the door, watching the space he'd just walked through.
His faint scent of cedar and coffee lingered in the air, grounding her. The calm, restrained warmth in his eyes when she kissed his cheek still lingered in her mind, and before she knew it, she was smiling to herself.
But the smile faded as quickly as it came.
Because beneath that calm, something stirred — a mix of nervousness and determination.
Today wasn't just another day.
Today was the start of her mission.
Aveline turned around, the hem of her robe whispering against the polished floor. She walked back upstairs to their bedroom — or his bedroom, as it still felt like sometimes. The space was neat, elegant, and impersonal — black and silver tones, sharp lines, everything perfectly in place.
She stood by the bed, staring at the cold perfection of it, and whispered under her breath, "If I want to change this marriage… then I have to start somewhere."
She sat on the bed, pulled out her laptop, and opened the search bar. For a moment, she hesitated. Her reflection in the screen looked back at her — soft features, hair loosely falling over her shoulders, eyes caught between courage and embarrassment.
Still, she typed.
"How to make your husband fall in love with you again."
The moment she pressed enter, the screen exploded with suggestions. Articles, blogs, AI chat advice, "marriage repair" forums, and glossy thumbnails of smiling couples holding hands under sunsets.
Her lips twitched. "Well," she murmured, "this is more serious than I thought."
She clicked one titled Ten Steps to Rekindle Love in Marriage. The first line read: 'Romance starts with effort — not perfection.'
Effort. She could do that.
Aveline opened a fresh page in her digital notebook and started typing:
> Operation: Win Lucian's Heart
Step 1 — Rebuild emotional connection
Step 2 — Create romantic moments
Step 3 — Surprise him (without scaring him)
Step 4 — Look… appealing
Step 5 — Communicate (but not nag)
Step 6 — Show care subtly
Step 7 — Confidence. Confidence. Confidence.
Her eyes lingered on "Step 4."
She sighed softly. "Look appealing," she repeated under her breath, and then, as if steeling herself, she opened a new tab.
Search: "Clothing that men find irresistible but still classy."
Instant regret.
Her cheeks flushed as pictures of women in slinky dresses and silk robes appeared. She immediately scrolled down, whispering to herself, "Too much. Way too much."
But curiosity got the better of her. She hovered over one of the pictures — a deep red dress with a subtle slit on the side. Elegant, feminine… and admittedly, stunning.
Her mind started spinning.
Would Lucian even notice if she wore something like that?
He barely looked at her these days — not out of coldness, but restraint. He was always so composed, so self-controlled, that even when his gaze lingered on her, it felt measured.
Her fingers tapped against the keyboard. "Maybe it's time to… make him lose control, just a little."
The thought made her face burn, and she quickly covered her cheeks with her hands. "What am I even thinking?" she muttered.
But then, her lips curved — a small, secret smile.
"No. I can do this."
She went back to her list and typed:
> • Buy a dress — elegant but bold
• Wear heels (not the ones that make me limp)
• Try light perfume — something new
• Maybe… matching lingerie?
Her fingers froze.
She stared at the last line for a full ten seconds before groaning and burying her face in her hands.
"Too bold," she mumbled. "Way too bold."
Yet, a second later, she peeked through her fingers and whispered, "But maybe just one."
Her nervous giggle filled the room, breaking the silence.
Then she continued her research, switching between articles and AI chats. Every website had its own philosophy — some said communication, some said mystery, some said spontaneous affection.
She took notes carefully, her handwriting neat, determined:
> • Plan a date night — candlelight dinner.
• Try watching a movie together (maybe horror — for an excuse to hold him).
• Surprise him at work (but not unannounced… that could be bad).
• Go for a night walk in the garden — stars, moonlight, silence.
• Learn his favorite dish.
• Say goodnight with a kiss — not just words.
She paused after the last one, twirling the pen between her fingers.
"Kiss him goodnight," she murmured. "I can do that."
Her heart fluttered at the memory of that brief morning kiss — soft, uncertain, but real. It wasn't much, but it was a start.
When she was done, she stared proudly at her page. The list looked surprisingly official — half romantic, half battle strategy.
And then she wrote at the bottom:
> "This time… I won't lose him."
Her phone buzzed beside her, breaking her focus. A reminder popped up — 'Lucian's schedule: Meeting at 11 a.m.'
She smiled faintly.
Even when he wasn't home, everything about him felt precise, controlled, on time.
Meanwhile, she — his reborn wife — was sitting here researching "How to make your stoic husband fall in love again".
It was absurd. But it was also oddly comforting.
Because she wasn't just trying to please him — she was trying to rebuild something sacred.
Something she had destroyed once before.
Aveline leaned back, gazing at the ceiling, her expression softening. "I won't repeat my past mistakes," she whispered. "Not this time."
Her gaze drifted toward the balcony, where sunlight poured through the curtains, wrapping the room in golden light.
A quiet conviction settled in her chest — warm and steady.
She reached for her pen again and underlined the title at the top of her notes.
> Operation: Win Lucian's Heart
And then, beneath it, she wrote in smaller letters:
> Start today.
She closed the notebook, her lips curving into a quiet, shy smile.
Aveline stood, walked to the mirror, and stared at her reflection — the same face that once carried regret and pain. But this time, her eyes held something different.
Determination. Hope.
And just a hint of mischief.
"Let's begin," she murmured softly.