Chapter 493

When Alexander stepped back into the bedroom, Evelyn was seated at the small dining table, twirling spaghetti onto her fork.

The door creaked open, but she didn’t turn.

In those brief, silent moments, Evelyn had already mapped out her next steps.

With her pregnancy, no company would risk hiring her. Maybe she could use this time to study, to sharpen her skills.

But first—there was something far more pressing.

Alexander’s gaze dropped to his bloodstained shirt. Not wanting to alarm her, he grabbed his sleepwear and slipped into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, he emerged, damp hair tousled, the scent of soap clinging to his skin.

Evelyn was still there, fork in hand, the last strands of pasta disappearing between her lips.

The warm glow of the lamp haloed her bent head, her loose waves spilling forward like silk. She looked fragile, as if the slightest breeze might dissolve her into the air.

Alexander’s chest tightened.

He moved closer, his fingers brushing her shoulder in a featherlight touch.

“You didn’t eat earlier?”

Alexander’s touch sent a shiver down Evelyn’s spine. She stiffened, then deliberately reached for her plate to evade his hand.

He froze, his fingers hovering midair before dropping awkwardly to his side.

"Did Ethan make the spaghetti?"

A beat of silence. Then, Evelyn nodded.

"Is it good?"

"Decent," she answered swiftly.

Alexander pressed his tongue against his cheek, eyes narrowing. "Starting tomorrow, I’ll cook for you."

To his surprise, tears welled in Evelyn’s eyes.

Her porcelain skin made the glistening trails more pronounced. Panic flared in his chest. Why was she crying over something so simple?

His heart twisted. Instinctively, he moved to pull her close.

But Evelyn set the plate down. Seeing his intention, she stood and stepped back.

Deliberately putting distance between them.

The realization struck him like a blow.

Desperate to break the tension, he grasped for words. "You came to the auction. Why did you leave without telling me?"

"What was I supposed to do there? Watch you and Isabella waltzing together like lovers?"

The mere image of it shattered Evelyn’s heart.

She inhaled sharply, blinking back fresh tears. "Alexander, let’s end this."

The air around them turned frigid as Alexander’s control snapped.

Evelyn shut her eyes tightly.

She missed the flash of panic in his gaze.

"Tell everyone it was just a contract marriage. Say I forced you into it out of gratitude for saving my life."

Her voice was steady, though her hands trembled.

"People already believe I’ve been chasing you for years. Your reputation won’t suffer at all."

She swallowed hard before continuing.

"Keep everything—the money, the properties. I don’t want a single cent."

Her fingers curled into fists.

"As for the baby…" Her breath hitched. "Just say I lied about being pregnant to trap you. That way, it won’t complicate your future relationships."

Her gaze drifted to the window, where sunlight streamed in, mocking her pain.

She forced herself to think, to plan.

"What else…?"

Evelyn was determined to shield Alexander’s pride, even as her own heart broke.

He had been kind to her, in his own way.

And for that, she would make sure he walked away unscathed.

His fingers dug into her shoulders as he crushed her against his chest.

The scent of his cologne mixed with the salt of her tears.

"You foolish woman," Alexander growled, his voice rough with emotion. "Do you really think destroying your own reputation will save mine?"

Evelyn trembled in his grasp, her breath hitching.

His grip tightened. "If you truly believed I betrayed you, you should've taken everything from me. Dragged my name through the mud. Made me pay tenfold!"

A bitter laugh escaped him.

"Do you imagine cheaters reward kindness? That they pity the women who suffer in silence?" His thumb brushed her cheek, smearing a tear. "No. They exploit it."

Her pulse fluttered beneath his touch.

"Your mercy becomes the blade that cuts you deepest." Alexander's lips grazed her temple. "God help me, Evelyn, but I can't let you go."

The confession hung between them—raw and undeniable.

His mouth found hers in a claiming kiss that tasted like desperation and unfinished vows.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a warning bell chimed.

This wasn't how divorces were supposed to feel.

Secret Longing: A Second Chance After Betrayal (Evelyn) novel