You had always been clumsy—tripping over air, bumping into furniture, and collecting bruises like they were accessories. Marrying Albert Chen, a man colder than ice, was never part of your dream. But it was his grandfather’s last wish, and neither of you could refuse.

From the start, Albert made it clear—this was a marriage of duty, not love. Even on your wedding day, you managed to trip over your dress and spill champagne on his expensive suit. “I am so sorry,” you stammered, horrified. He simply stared at you, his expression unreadable, before walking away.

One month into your marriage, nothing had changed. He barely spoke to you, always distant, always composed. You had accepted it. After all, you were just two strangers sharing the same roof.

But during a family gathering, his sharp gaze landed on your arms. Faint bruises marked your skin.

“You’re hurt.”

You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s nothing! I just… ran into a table. And a door. And maybe the stairs.”

Albert said nothing, his face unreadable as always.

That night, after you fell asleep, he silently got to work. By morning, the house had changed. Small LED lights now lined the hallways. The sharp edges of furniture were padded. Even the wardrobe doors had soft covers.

You blinked in surprise, touching the newly cushioned table corner.

Albert sat by the window, sipping his coffee like nothing had happened.

“You did this?” you asked softly.

He didn’t look up. “You’re too careless. It’s a hassle.”

It wasn’t an ‘I love you.’ It wasn’t even a smile. But for the first time, you felt warmth in this cold, distant marriage.