Chapter 218

Dinner was served at Mooncrest Manor.

"Evelyn, Wesley stopped by to see you earlier," Clara said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "He mentioned he's planning to settle down here in Eldermere..."

Evelyn didn’t need to hear the rest to know where her mother was going with this.

"Mom, I know you’re eager to see me married, but please don’t make that face in public," Evelyn groaned. "People will think I’m desperate! I’m only in my twenties—I have plenty of time. Right now, I should be focusing on my career. Once I’m successful, men will be lining up at my door."

Clara’s hopeful expression dimmed.

"I’m not pressuring you," she insisted. "I just think Wesley is a wonderful man. He looked after you the entire time you were abroad. Doesn’t that count for something?"

"Should I marry every man who’s nice to me? By that logic, I should’ve married Professor Whitmore too!"

"Fine! Keep pretending you don’t see what’s right in front of you!" Clara huffed. "Wesley is a rare catch. If you let him slip away, you might regret it."

"Have a little faith in me, Mom," Evelyn said, patting her mother’s hand. "Besides, have you asked the kids what they think? They’re not exactly thrilled about the idea of a stepfather."

She shot a pointed look at her children.

Lily, ever the diplomat, piped up, "I don’t want a stepfather, but I’ll be nice to anyone Mommy likes."

Evelyn sighed. Clearly, her daughter hadn’t picked up on the hint.

She turned her hopeful gaze to her son.

"Let’s eat, Grandma," Henry said simply.

Clara exhaled in defeat. "Fine, I’ll drop it. I just don’t want you to look back and regret this. But if you’re not interested, I won’t waste my breath."

Evelyn grinned. "If you’re so keen on matchmaking, why not set up Mike? He’s been drowning his sorrows at bars lately. I bet he’d love a partner."

Clara opened her mouth, then closed it, rendered speechless.

The next day at Thornfield Industries, Wesley’s unexpected visit caught Evelyn off guard.

"Aren’t you supposed to be recovering from jet lag?" she asked, gesturing for him to sit.

"Do you have coffee here?" he inquired.

"I do, but you shouldn’t have any now," she chided, pouring him a glass of water instead. "You’ll never sleep tonight. How about I give you a tour of the departments instead?"

Wesley nodded, then hesitated. "Actually, I came to discuss something with you."

He slid a photograph across the desk.

Evelyn picked it up, studying the face in the image. "Who’s this?"

"A patient," Wesley explained. "He’s been bedridden for three years, but he’s semi-conscious—better off than someone in a vegetative state. His parents reached out to Professor Whitmore six months ago. He took the case but didn’t have time to finalize a treatment plan before..."

Evelyn’s expression softened. "If the professor gave his word, send me the medical records. I’ll take a look."

"Are you sure? You just started your company. I don’t want to burden you."

"Send the records first," she insisted, tapping the photo. "It’s a shame for someone this handsome to be stuck in a hospital bed."

Wesley chuckled. "I’ll send them over later today. Now, show me your empire."

Evelyn rolled her eyes. "Don’t tease me. I wasn’t this smug when I visited St. Elizabeth Medical Center."

As they walked through the office, their laughter drew curious glances.

By the end of the day, whispers about Evelyn Thorne’s new boyfriend had spread like wildfire through Thornfield Industries.