Chapter 494

Alexander’s words sent a jolt through Evelyn.

He was acting unusually tonight.

She had anticipated his immediate agreement. Shouldn’t he be thrilled to divorce her and finally marry the woman he loved?

Yet, his mood was dark.

It almost sounded like… concern.

Was he pitying her?

His voice, deep and velvety, brushed against her senses. "Evelyn, what I have with Isabella isn’t what you believe."

The embrace brought his lips dangerously close to her hair.

The sweet, intoxicating scent of strawberries clung to her thick locks, and he found himself inhaling deeper.

His large hands settled on her shoulders, warm and possessive.

Evelyn stiffened. That heat—always so deceptive, so addictive.

Against her will, his chest felt like safety.

But she shoved him back, putting space between them before she lost herself completely.

Alexander's hand stretched out, but Evelyn slipped through his fingers like smoke.

He could only stand frozen as she turned away, her silhouette outlined by the dim bedroom light.

Evelyn adjusted the collar of her silk pajamas, her movements deliberate.

Her expression was unreadable, her voice cool.

"Isabella was my neighbor when we were children."

Alexander exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "She was there during the worst two years of my life."

Evelyn shut her eyes briefly. Of course. A childhood bond.

That was the most dangerous kind—built on survival, trauma, and unshakable loyalty.

A past she could never compete with.

"But it's not what you're thinking."

Alexander stepped closer, his gaze intense. "Isabella and I were never involved. It was her brother I was close to."

His voice roughened as memories surfaced.

"There was an accident. Only one of us could make it out alive."

A heavy pause filled the room.

"He chose me."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Alexander shut his eyes tightly. A memory surfaced, and sorrow crashed over him like a tidal wave.

He had spent years burying those painful recollections. No one truly understood the horrors he had witnessed.

Bloodshed. Betrayal. Terror. Loss.

They haunted him, twisting his guilt into an unshakable burden—especially when it came to Isabella.

She had been just a child when her brother died. Barely sixteen. Too young to face such devastation alone.

The image was seared into his mind—the day he returned home.

Snow blanketed the ground. The sky burned crimson at the edges, the winter sun dipping low.

His military boots crunched against the ice as he stepped out of the SUV.

Then—small hands clutching his coat.

Isabella, her braids tangled, her cheeks streaked with dirt and tears, collapsed at his feet.

"Where is he?" Her voice cracked. "Bring him back!"

Her tiny fists gripped his trousers, knuckles white.

The wind howled, but her sobs cut through it. Sharp. Desperate.

Alexander had no words. Only silence.

And the weight of a promise he could never keep.

The underage siblings had only each other.

It was their first winter in the remote village, where the wind howled through the barren trees.

Then, in the blink of an eye, her brother was gone forever.

He had been fourteen—barely old enough to dream, yet too young to die.

Alexander Whitmore stiffened, his jaw tightening as he tilted his head down, letting the shadows conceal the grief twisting his features.

His chest constricted, the weight of loss pressing against his ribs like a slow, suffocating vise.

He couldn’t bear to dwell on it.

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