Chapter 636
Alexander's eyes darkened with pain. No one cared more about Evelyn and their unborn child's safety than he did.
Yet his genuine concern had been twisted into something ugly in Evelyn's mind—now she saw him as the villain who would harm them both.
In the dimly lit room, Evelyn bit her lip hard, praying Alexander wouldn't notice the tears slipping down her cheeks.
She quickly wiped them away with the edge of the blanket. "I didn't push her down those stairs. The way Isabella puts on that pitiful act, and you immediately believe her over me." Her voice cracked. "Fine, if you think I did it, then I did. I'm just that cruel. I'm not good enough for you. Just leave!"
Her chest ached, each breath sharp and uneven. She refused to let him see her break, but the injustice of it all was suffocating.
Though Evelyn had turned away, Alexander sensed her silent tears. His heart twisted.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "Alright, it was my fault. Please don't cry."
He couldn't deny it—walking in to find blood everywhere, Isabella drenched and trembling like a wounded animal—anyone would have jumped to conclusions.
Especially after what Evelyn had suffered because of Isabella.
It wasn't unreasonable to think she might lash out.
Alexander wasn't blaming her. He was just stating the facts.
"Come on," he murmured, brushing a kiss against her temple. "I believe you."
Evelyn had the sinking feeling his words were just to placate her, not because he truly meant them.
She bit her lip harder, the misery deepening. "I want to sleep."
Alexander studied her for a long moment. Seeing her eyes closed, exhaustion weighing on her, he lay down beside her.
His voice was low, rough with emotion. "Come home with me tomorrow. I'll make sure she's gone."
With the plagiarism scandal, Isabella's reputation was in ruins. Concerts? Forget it. She'd be lucky to book small gigs.
In this industry, reputation was everything. At this point, her only option was to disappear overseas.
It was the perfect opportunity to be rid of her.
Evelyn knew better. Isabella wasn't the root of their problems—sending her away wouldn't magically fix everything.
"I'm not going back," she said stubbornly. "I'm fine here."
At least until Isabella was truly gone, she had no intention of returning to Whitmore Manor.
Alexander frowned. "Evelyn, I'm getting her out of our lives. Isn't that enough?"
Evelyn stayed silent, closing her eyes.
Pregnant and exhausted, she needed rest—for the baby’s sake.
But with Alexander beside her and the weight of everything pressing down, sleep wouldn’t come.
Her stomach growled loudly, betraying her.
In the darkness, Alexander’s warm hand slid over her belly, his touch tender.
"I'll make you pasta," he said, rising from the bed.
Evelyn huffed. "I'm not hungry. Don’t bother."
Alexander’s lips curved slightly. "Well, I am. Keep me company while I cook."
No matter how much she snapped or sulked, he never lost his patience. He always found a way to soothe her.
The room fell silent.
Evelyn absently stroked her stomach.
Maybe, for the baby’s sake, she shouldn’t let her emotions spiral.
Alexander had his own burdens—his hands were tied too.
With Isabella, it was obligation, not love.
And he was sending her away.
That thought eased the tightness in her chest.
Ten minutes later, Alexander returned.
The Hawthorne Estate was silent, everyone long asleep.
"I made shrimp pasta—your favorite."
He sat on the edge of the bed. "Come eat. Be mad at me after, but don’t starve yourself."
Evelyn’s irritation softened like butter under warmth.
Even in the middle of their fight, he was still worrying about her.
It was past 1 AM. In Cresthaven’s bitter winter nights, most CEOs weren’t awake cooking for their wives.
Evelyn wasn’t usually unreasonable.
But the hurt still lingered. "Even if I eat, it doesn’t fix anything."
Alexander smirked, finding her pout oddly endearing.
He knew exactly what was bothering her.
"Fine. Then I’ll pack my things and move into Hawthorne Estate with you."
Living apart wasn’t an option.
Too many marriages fell apart that way.
Evelyn blinked. "Since when does the husband permanently live at his wife’s parents’ house? People will call you a freeloader."
Alexander shrugged. "Let them. Lucas would kill to freeload off Claire but can’t. Besides—reputation means nothing. You matter more. Where you go, I follow."
Evelyn was speechless.
Alexander’s shamelessness was unmatched.
No wonder he’d landed a wife.
Before she could react, he scooped her into his arms.
Evelyn gasped. "What are you—?"
"If we wait any longer, the pasta will be ruined," he said simply, carrying her out.
Under the light, Alexander saw Evelyn’s red, swollen eyes.
Guilt flashed across his face. "I never expected her to show up at our place. She must’ve guessed the code."
The password was Evelyn’s birthday—not hard to figure out.
Evelyn froze.
She and Isabella weren’t close. How would she know that?
Silent, Evelyn focused on eating.
Maybe she shouldn’t keep punishing Alexander for someone else’s games.
Just then, his phone buzzed violently on the table.
He rejected the call without looking.
Evelyn saw Simon’s name.
Alexander ignored it, but seconds later, Isabella’s number flashed.
Evelyn sighed. "Just answer. She won’t stop."
Alexander picked up, voice icy. "Didn’t I say to call a doctor if there’s an issue?"
Simon sounded uneasy. "It’s complicated, sir. Ms. Morgan… she’s lost her sight. She can’t see anything."
The silence was so thick Evelyn heard every word.
Isabella had gone blind?