Chapter 128 Bubble Bath

• "Good morning, Cat." Xavier's voice sliced through the silence of their opulent bedroom. Cathleen, her back rigid and her eyes void of warmth, merely sighed—a sound that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand unspoken words.
• She rose from the sheets, a silent specter in the early light, her movements devoid of the grace that usually accompanied her every action. Xavier trailed behind her, the distance between them stretching taut as a drawn bowstring. "Cat, please," he pleaded, his voice thick with urgency. "Talk to me, slap me for being a fool, shout at me—anything. I can't stand this silence."
• But the silence was her armor, and Cathleen wielded it expertly, offering him nothing but the cold shoulder of indifference.