Chapter 384

At this late hour, only one person would dare to disturb her—Ethan Caldwell.

Just as expected, moments later, the door to Evelyn's suite creaked open.

Ethan stood silhouetted in the doorway, his tall frame radiating icy tension. He deliberately left the lights off, as though afraid the brightness might sear her tired eyes.

"Evelyn, I know you're awake."

His voice, rough with exhaustion, cut through the darkness. The faint glow from the hallway illuminated his approach as he moved toward her bed.

"Why haven't you eaten? Even if you're furious with me, you shouldn't punish yourself like this."

His tone was softer than she'd ever heard it, almost pleading. His fingers reached out, brushing against her cheek as if to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

She jerked away instinctively, leaving his hand hovering in the air before it finally settled against her skin.

The heat of his touch startled her.

Evelyn hadn't realized his fever still hadn't broken after two days.

Irritation flared within her. She snapped on the bedside lamp, its golden glow revealing the exhaustion in his shadowed eyes.

"What exactly are you trying to prove, Ethan?" Her voice was sharp, laced with frustration. "You're not usually this—"

Ethan sighed deeply, his voice laced with frustration. "Evelyn, you know I'm usually a reasonable man, but you—you're my one exception."

His lips curled into a mocking smile. "Did you really think your disappearance would send everyone into a panic?"

He leaned closer, his tone dripping with condescension. "You've been gone for twenty-four hours, and yet life goes on. No one's searching for you. Not even your precious husband."

Evelyn's fingers clenched around the edges of the blanket.

"Alexander returned from Cresthaven hours ago," Ethan continued, watching her reaction. "And guess what? He hasn't even bothered to look for you."

His words struck like poisoned arrows. "Face it, Evelyn. You mean nothing to him. That marriage was always just a game—a way to get under my skin. You're disposable to him."

The quilt wrinkled beneath Evelyn's tightening grip.

That couldn't be true.

Alexander was back in the city, knew she was missing, and chose not to act?

It defied logic. Even after their explosive argument, wouldn't he at least check if she was safe? Then she remembered—her phone was currently in Ethan's possession.

A cold realization settled in her chest.

Evelyn stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Did you use my phone to contact him? Ethan, give it back to me!"

Ethan tucked Evelyn deeper under the covers, his movements slow but deliberate. "Don't be upset. Just rest. I'll make you some spaghetti."

He rose from the bed, his body trembling slightly.

A full day and night of high fever, followed by plunging into an icy lake in the dead of winter, had taken a brutal toll on him.

Ethan was supposed to be in the hospital. But when the staff called, saying Evelyn hadn't eaten all day, he had rushed over without hesitation.

No doctors made rounds at this hour. No one would notice his absence.

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. "Don't bother. I won't eat it. Ethan, either let me out, or I'll starve myself."

"Evelyn, you've never tasted my spaghetti before, have you? It's my first attempt, so don't judge too harshly."

He ignored her protests. Stepping out of the room, he headed straight for the kitchen and tied an apron around his waist.

When Evelyn emerged, wrapped in her coat, she found him watching a cooking tutorial on his phone, his expression a mix of concentration and panic.

The water in the pot bubbled violently. With unsteady hands, he dropped the spaghetti in.

The plate of spaghetti steamed before Evelyn, its rich aroma filling the air. Yet, she barely glanced at it.

Alexander Whitmore, one of Cresthaven's most powerful men, had rushed here despite his high fever. Just to cook for her. Just to feed her with his own hands.

It was absurd.

"Ethan," Evelyn said coldly, her fingers tightening around her fork. "You should know by now—you can't control me."

His expression darkened, but she didn’t flinch.

Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed, marking the end of something.

Secret Admiration: Finding True Love After