Chapter 136
Vanessa's perfectly styled hair was now drenched, her mascara running in dark streaks down her cheeks.
"See clearly now? It's definitely me this time."
Ethan Caldwell's jaw dropped. "You—how dare you!"
Evelyn casually snatched two napkins from the table and tossed them toward Vanessa with a mocking smile.
"I despise being framed. Vanessa, surely you remember that?"
The room had been silent, merely observing—no one expected Evelyn to retaliate so boldly.
Her audacity left Vanessa speechless, frozen in shock.
All eyes flickered toward Alexander Whitmore, but his expression remained unreadable, showing no sign of reprimanding Evelyn.
Ryan Fletcher clapped slowly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Save your theatrics, Vanessa. Aunt Evelyn doesn’t bother with underhanded tricks. If she wanted to humiliate you, she’d do it openly. Why resort to such pettiness? Besides, this is Whitmore Manor. Did you really think your childish act would fool anyone?"
Vanessa’s face twisted in fury.
The room was filled with elegance and poise—except for her. Vanessa stood out like a ridiculous clown, the center of everyone's mocking gazes.
Audrey and Sophia observed from the sidelines, barely concealing their amusement. Even Grace couldn't hide her disdain.
"Ethan, your wife is utterly humiliating!"
Ethan's expression darkened. Seeing Vanessa biting her lip, her eyes shimmering with helplessness, a pang of pity twisted in his chest.
He turned sharply toward Grace. "Watch how you speak to her."
"I despise women who rely on cheap tricks to manipulate men."
As a Caldwell, Grace had been indulged since childhood. She had no patience for women who played the victim, using calculated vulnerability to win sympathy.
"No wonder Mother dislikes her. She’s an embarrassment."
Grace strode toward the door. "This is tedious. I’m leaving."
The air in the room thickened with tension. Vanessa had become the evening’s joke.
Humiliation burned through her. She wanted nothing more than to flee, but the elders hadn’t dismissed her yet. Leaving now would only make things worse.
Instead, she retreated to her room, desperate to fix her ruined makeup and change into something less... laughable.
But no matter what she did, the whispers followed her.
And the worst part?
Ethan still looked at her like she was worth saving.
She hated that most of all.
The silk blouse slipped from Vanessa's trembling fingers as she turned to face Ethan.
He stepped into the room, his expression unreadable. "Tell me the truth—did you deliberately spill that coffee earlier?"
Vanessa's breath hitched. Her wide eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You're doubting me now?"
Ethan rubbed his temple, his voice low. "Knowing Evelyn's character, she'd never humiliate you publicly like that."
A bitter laugh escaped Vanessa's lips. "Of course. Saint Evelyn is always perfect, isn't she?" Her nails dug into her palms. "Meanwhile, I burned myself just to frame her. Is that what you think?"
Her voice cracked. "You're my husband, Ethan. How can you defend her instead of me?"
Vanessa swayed on her feet, the weight of betrayal crushing her chest. "Tell me honestly—do you still have feelings for her? Regret marrying me?" Her lips twisted. "Too late. She's Alexander's wife now. Your aunt, remember?"
Ethan's jaw clenched. "That's ridiculous."
"Ridiculous?" Vanessa's laughter turned hysterical. "Last night, during your fever, you called out her name. Not mine—hers."
She'd sworn to bury that painful memory, but the dam had broken.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. "If you don't still love her, why would you—"
Ethan's phone buzzed, cutting her off. The screen flashed with a name that made Vanessa's blood run cold: Evelyn Carter.
His hesitation told her everything.
The accusation hung heavy in the air between us.
"Evelyn?" My voice was barely above a whisper, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Vanessa's eyes burned with fury as she stepped closer, her hands clenched into fists. "You called her name in your sleep last night, Ethan! How could you?"
I froze.
Had I really?
Memories of the previous night were hazy, blurred by exhaustion and the weight of everything left unsaid between us. But the thought that I might have murmured Evelyn's name—her name—sent a cold wave of dread through me.
Vanessa's voice cracked. "After everything, you still think about her? What am I to you, then?"
I swallowed hard, my throat tight.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Not now.
Not when Vanessa and I had just begun our life together.
She turned away, her shoulders trembling. "I deserve better than this, Ethan. I deserve someone who doesn’t still love another woman."
The words struck like a blade.
Did I?
Did I still love Evelyn?
The question twisted inside me, sharp and unrelenting.
Vanessa didn’t wait for an answer. She stormed out, the door slamming behind her with finality.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, my head in my hands.
What had I done?
And more importantly—what was I going to do now?