Chapter 642

A tense silence filled the hospital room.

Simon Graves lifted a spoonful of oatmeal toward Isabella Morgan's lips.

Isabella turned her face away stubbornly, refusing the offering.

"Alexander," she whined, batting her eyelashes. "Could you feed me instead? Simon makes me uncomfortable."

Simon's grip tightened on the spoon. "Ms. Morgan, it's just oatmeal. Does the hand holding the spoon really matter that much?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "Or does it magically taste better when Mr. Whitmore feeds you?"

Isabella countered sharply, "Don't you have a girlfriend, Simon? Won't she mind you spoon-feeding another woman?"

"This is strictly professional," Simon retorted, glancing at Alexander. "Mr. Whitmore promised me a bonus for this."

His eyes narrowed as he added, "Besides, Mr. Whitmore is married. You're worried about my girlfriend, but not about his wife?" Isabella bit her lip, falling silent.

She'd interacted with Simon enough to recognize his loyalty to Evelyn Carter. The man always found ways to defend her!

Still determined, she turned pleading eyes toward Alexander. "Please, Alexander? Just this once?"

Alexander's brow furrowed. "Enough. If you refuse to eat, you'll only hurt yourself." His meaning was clear - no special treatment.

Frustration bubbled in Isabella's chest, but hunger won out.

Fine. She'd eat. No point starving herself over pride!

As Isabella reluctantly accepted the oatmeal, Alexander stepped into the hallway to make a call.

For days, he'd been contacting the nation's top ophthalmologists.

This situation couldn't continue. Perhaps a specialist team could improve Isabella's condition.

Back in the room, Isabella had barely swallowed two bites when something extraordinary happened.

Where darkness had reigned, a sudden flash of light appeared.

Then, gradually, her surroundings came into focus...

Could she... see again?

Isabella froze, blinking rapidly.

Her first instinct was to turn toward Simon, the closest person.

He held the oatmeal bowl with obvious reluctance, his expression sour enough to curdle milk.

Clearly, he resented every moment of this task.

Isabella swallowed her irritation - she couldn't exactly snap at him now.

Looking down at her hands, certainty flooded her.

She could see! But was this temporary?

Why had her vision returned so suddenly?

After a moment's thought, Isabella decided to keep pretending.

Blindness had its advantages - it kept Alexander by her side these past days.

Familiarity breeds affection, after all. Given enough time, surely Alexander would develop feelings for her.

When Alexander returned, he announced, "I've arranged for a specialist team. They'll examine you in the coming days."

Isabella clutched her blanket, letting her gaze wander aimlessly. "Are they good doctors?"

Alexander nodded, then remembered. "The best in the country," he confirmed verbally.

A flicker of worry crossed Isabella's face.

Would these experts discover her deception?

Midnight found Isabella asleep, allowing Alexander to leave the room.

He dialed Evelyn's number.

Evelyn lay in bed, classical music drifting through her headphones - perfect for prenatal relaxation.

Seeing Alexander's call, she answered immediately. "Yes?"

"You met with Dominic this afternoon?"

A soft "mm-hmm" preceded her curious question. "How did you know?"

"Someone sent me photos of you two together."

Evelyn stiffened. "Were we holding hands?"

"Yes."

"Are you jealous?"

"Very."

Evelyn pressed her lips together. Someone had photographed her encounter with Dominic and sent it to Alexander.

Who would do such a thing?

Not Isabella... could it be Dominic himself?

Her prolonged silence prompted Alexander's low voice. "Evelyn, has Dominic stolen you from me?"

Evelyn dreaded conflict between Alexander and Dominic.

Dominic was unpredictable - if he could betray his own brother, what might he do to Alexander?

In a battle between rule-follower Alexander and ruthless Dominic, Evelyn feared for her husband's safety.

"It was just a chance meeting outside the hospital," she explained softly. "The photos must show misleading angles."

"Really?" Alexander's voice remained deep. "But—"

"Alexander," Evelyn interrupted firmly, "I'm your wife. You need to trust me."

Several seconds of silence followed. Of course he trusted her.

Trust formed the foundation of their relationship.

As Evelyn had given him her trust, he would give his in return.

"Did you eat dinner?" he asked suddenly.

Evelyn hesitated. Preoccupied, she'd barely touched her food.

Hawthorne Estate's cooking no longer suited her palate after so long away.

Her silence spoke volumes.

Through the phone, Evelyn heard wind rushing past Alexander.

Then his breathing quickened.

"What are you doing?" she asked sharply.

"Be ready in twenty minutes. Open the door at Hawthorne Estate."

Evelyn frowned in confusion.

"I'm bringing you a midnight snack," Alexander explained.

She checked the time - already midnight.

The hospital to Hawthorne Estate was a thirty-minute drive at least.

"I already ate," she protested. "Don't trouble yourself. Get some rest instead."

He'd been up all night yesterday.

"Wait for me." Two simple words, then he nearly hung up.

Evelyn curled her fingers. "What if Isabella wakes and needs you? Won't she throw another tantrum?"

Alexander's rapid breathing filled the line.

His deep voice resonated through the receiver. "Evelyn, nothing else matters. You're my wife."