Chapter 389

"Alexander, are you leaving already?"

Oliver noticed Alexander rising abruptly and frowned in confusion. "Dinner's about to be served. At least stay and eat before you go."

"I can't," Alexander replied tersely, already moving toward the door. "Something urgent came up."

Before Oliver could protest, Alexander had vanished beyond the estate gates.

Oliver sighed, running a hand through his hair. Why is everyone acting so strangely these days?

Moments later, a servant arrived carrying an ornate box. Inside were meticulously crafted figurines—each one exquisitely detailed.

Oliver skimmed the accompanying note from Evelyn, his brows knitting together. A slow realization dawned on him.

When did I ever mention wanting figurines?

His sister had been acting oddly for weeks. First the sudden hunger strike, now this.

Evelyn's protest had lasted precisely forty-eight hours before her stubbornness crumbled. By the third day, she'd surrendered to hunger, though her body rebelled violently.

Morning sickness gripped her mercilessly. Every meal ended the same way—retching over the porcelain bowl, trembling hands clutching her stomach.

The pregnancy was still new, her body unaccustomed to the changes.

Oliver watched from the doorway as Evelyn slumped against the bathroom tiles, exhausted. He made a mental note to call their family physician at dawn.

Something wasn't right.

And Alexander's abrupt departure only deepened the mystery.

The air was thick with tension as Evelyn Carter sat by the window, her fingers tracing the cold glass. If she wanted to escape, she needed to conserve her strength. Without energy, every attempt would be futile.

Ethan Caldwell arrived on the sixth night of her captivity.

Days of barely eating had left Evelyn gaunt, her once-vibrant eyes now shadowed with exhaustion. The staff at Hawthorne Estate had been kind, preparing elaborate meals in hopes of tempting her appetite. When she refused solid food, they resorted to soups—rich, nourishing broths that became her only sustenance.

Ethan slipped into the estate late that night, finding her room shrouded in darkness. He didn’t disturb her, though the weight of his presence lingered in the silence.

Morning came, and Evelyn descended the stairs to find him already seated at the dining table, sipping black coffee. He pushed a steaming cup of milk toward her. "Drink this. It’ll help with the nausea."

His voice was soft, almost tender—a cruel echo of the past. For a fleeting second, she could almost believe they were still together.

Evelyn ignored the milk, pouring herself a glass of water instead. Her voice was steady, but her knuckles whitened around the glass. "Ethan, how much longer do you plan to keep me here?"

Nearly a week had passed. He’d been absent for days, and the estate gates remained locked, sealing her in like a prized possession.

The question hung between them, unanswered.

The delivery truck came only once each morning, bringing fresh produce to the estate.

Every time it arrived, a group of maids and guards would swarm around Evelyn, their watchful eyes making it clear—she wasn’t getting anywhere near that truck.

She was trapped.

Ethan Caldwell had power, wealth, and no patience for useless people. With this many eyes on her, escaping wasn’t just difficult—it was impossible. She couldn’t even step outside without permission.

He noticed the bitterness in her expression.

"I’ll be staying here with you for the next few days."

His voice was soft, his gaze unnervingly tender. "Evelyn, we have all the time in the world to… reconnect."

A wave of nausea hit her.

Whether it was his words or the pregnancy hormones, she didn’t know—but she barely had time to turn away before she was retching violently in front of him.

Ethan’s expression darkened instantly.

"Do I disgust you that much?" His voice was dangerously quiet. "Were those seven years together really so unbearable for you?"

He stepped closer, his jaw tight. "I’ve changed my mind. Don’t you want things to go back to how they were?"

She didn’t even blink.

“I don’t.”

With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared into her room, the door clicking shut behind her with finality.

Alexander’s voice followed, low and edged with frustration. “Evelyn, this defiance of yours exists solely because I allow it.”

Secret Longing: A Love Reclaimed After Darkness (Evelyn Carter) novel

The air between them crackled with tension, thick enough to slice.

Evelyn’s refusal had been sharp, effortless. She hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t wavered.

Alexander’s words lingered in the hallway, a quiet threat wrapped in velvet.

But Evelyn was done bending.

She leaned against her bedroom door, exhaling slowly.

Outside, Alexander’s footsteps retreated, heavy with unspoken promises.

Or warnings.

She couldn’t tell anymore.

And frankly, she didn’t care.

Not when every fiber of her being screamed one truth—she was done playing by his rules.

The silence stretched, suffocating.

Then, a soft knock.

Not Alexander.

Too tentative.

Evelyn didn’t move.

Whoever it was could wait.

Forever, if necessary.

She had nothing left to give.

Not to him.

Not to anyone.