CHAPTER FORTY FIVE – LITTLE CRACKS UNDER THE SURFACE

The sleek, modern kitchen gleamed under the soft light of the pendant lamps. Ethan busied himself at the counter, chopping vegetables with practiced ease. The rhythmic clink of the knife against the cutting board provided a stark contrast to the silence hanging heavy in the air. Madison entered, her designer handbag slung over her shoulder. The weight of the day – the long hours on set, the emotional intensity of the scene – clung to her like a second skin. "Hey," she mumbled, dropping her bag onto a nearby chair with a tired sigh. Ethan glanced up, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Rough day?" he asked, his voice warm. "Exhausting," Madison admitted, collapsing onto the counter stool. She ran a hand through her hair, its usual bouncy curls now limp and lifeless. Ethan placed a plate of sliced cucumber in front of her. "Here, have a snack. You barely touched dinner at the charity gala." Madison picked up a slice, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. "Sorry, honey. I s