When she was apart from Lucius, for whatever reason, she tended to reminder herself that she was a strong, independent woman, and that no matter how proficient she was at her role as wife and mother, she did not need anyone else to validate her existence. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism. Perhaps that was genuinely how she felt when she was alone.
However, even now, whenever she saw him or heard his voice, she felt those annoying little flutters in her stomach. It had only been a week, but she went to him with a fond smile on her face. "My goodness, how young you look, Lucius," she said, putting her hand to his face. Some part of her brain always saw him just like this whenever she looked at him, but she had to admit that Azkaban and the war had aged him in the time she'd come from.