Chapter 707
The moment Evelyn agreed to see him, Alexander felt a spark ignite in his chest.
He threw his head back with that familiar arrogance, casting a contemptuous glance at the security detail outside before sauntering in like he owned the place, even having the audacity to slam the door shut behind him.
The bodyguards exchanged irritated looks before immediately dialing Lucas Bennett, dramatically recounting the unfolding situation with embellished details.
Inside the hospital room, Ethan's eyes burned with desperate hope. "Evelyn, is it true? You're really divorcing Alexander?"
Evelyn's delicate brows knitted together. "What business is that of yours? Did you storm in here at midnight just to ask about this?"
"Of course it's my business!" The scent of whiskey clung to Ethan's clothes, yet his gaze remained unsettlingly clear. "You only married him because of me in the first place." His voice dropped to a whisper. "You're leaving him because you finally realized you never loved him, didn't you?" That dangerous hope flickered brighter in his eyes. "You still love me. Say the word, and I'll take you away from all this tonight."
Evelyn stared at him like he'd grown a second head. "My marriage has nothing to do with you, Ethan. Have you completely lost your mind? If this is all you came to say, then get out."
The light in Ethan's eyes shattered like broken glass. Even if Evelyn left Alexander, she would never choose him.
Agony twisted his handsome features. "Why? Why won't you give me another chance? Just say yes, and I'll love you with every breath in my body—I'd die for you."
Evelyn's voice turned arctic. "I gave you seven years worth of chances. You had countless opportunities to prove yourself, but you never did." Her gaze could have frozen hell over. "You're the one who ended our story, Ethan."
Ethan staggered back as if physically struck. First he'd blamed Vanessa, then Alexander. Now the bitter truth settled in his gut—his own indecision had destroyed everything. He'd been out of the game before it even began.
The pain in his chest was a living thing, gnawing at his ribs with serrated teeth until each breath became a battle.
What had once been the purest love of his youth now lay in ruins at his feet, trampled beyond recognition by his own foolish hands.
He stumbled from the room like a man condemned, his soul visibly draining from his body with each mechanical step.
When Alexander arrived at the hospital corridor, this was the haunting sight that greeted him—Ethan Caldwell, once so vibrant, now a hollow shell shuffling away from Evelyn's room. The man didn't even register Alexander's presence as he passed, eyes vacant as a corpse.
Alexander's frown deepened as he pushed open the hospital room door. "Evelyn, did Ethan try to—"
The lights snapped off before he could finish. Darkness swallowed the room as Evelyn burrowed deeper under the covers, her silent dismissal louder than any words. Alexander approached cautiously. "Evelyn..."
She didn't turn to face him. "You've been drinking." Her quiet observation carried an unspoken question—he hadn't gone to see Isabella after all.
Alexander didn't deny it. "Just a few glasses."
Evelyn exhaled sharply. "I can't stand the smell. You shouldn't stay tonight."
Though the VIP suite was luxurious, it offered only one proper bed. Alexander's broad frame had looked comically cramped on the narrow sofa last night, his long legs dangling awkwardly over the armrest.
He lifted his sleeve to his nose and grimaced—the alcohol fumes were indeed potent. "It was Lucas. He insisted—"
"I don't care." Evelyn's interruption was swift as a guillotine. "Who you drink with or where you go stopped being my concern long ago. I'm exhausted. Leave."
"Evelyn..." Alexander reached for her hand, but she wrenched it away with surprising force.
The alcohol made his head swim, but Alexander forced himself to remain steady as he carefully tucked the blanket around her shoulders. "Rest well," he murmured, his voice rough with unspoken emotion.
He turned to leave but paused at the threshold. "I'll be right outside if you need anything."
The door clicked shut. Evelyn released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. A thought nagged at her—the hospital corridors were freezing at night. Was he really planning to sleep out there?
Her fingers twitched against the sheets, emotions churning like a stormy sea. After twenty restless minutes, she finally slipped from bed and padded to the door.
When she opened it, the sight punched her straight in the chest—Alexander Whitmore, CEO of Titan Capital, six feet two inches of pure muscle, curled fetal on a hard plastic bench. The hallway was silent except for the howling wind outside the windows.
He'd draped his suit jacket over himself like a child's blanket, his usually perfect hair mussed, face pale with exhaustion. One arm was thrown over his eyes, whether to block light or hide emotion, she couldn't tell. In that moment, he resembled nothing so much as a stray dog—loyal to a fault, stubbornly waiting outside a door that might never open. He'd catch his death out here.
Evelyn stared for a long moment before silently retreating. Her gaze landed on the spare blanket folded over the sofa. After a brief internal battle, she snatched it up and returned to the hallway.
The door creaked louder than she'd intended. Alexander stirred, blinking up at her with sleep-clouded eyes that cleared instantly when he saw the blanket in her hands. His voice was gravel-rough with hope. "Evelyn..."
"Don't get sick and pass it to me," she muttered, avoiding his gaze as she tossed the blanket at him and turned sharply away.
Alexander sat frozen, watching her retreating form. The question haunted him—did she truly want this divorce? The mere thought carved a hollow ache beneath his ribs.
Ethan's broken expression flashed through his mind—that same hopeless devastation he'd witnessed minutes ago. The idea of Evelyn looking at him with that same finality made his blood run cold.
"Evelyn is the only woman I've ever loved," he thought desperately. "And she must feel something too. Why else would she bring me a blanket? This can't be how our story ends."
With sudden determination, Alexander pushed through the door.
Wordlessly, he pulled Evelyn into a crushing embrace. "I won't sign the papers," he rasped into her hair. "Hit me, scream at me, do whatever you need—but don't leave me." He felt hot tears track down his cheeks, cooling against her skin.
Evelyn stood rigid in his arms. When she finally spoke, her voice was feather-light yet carried the weight of the world. "When something breaks, can you really pretend the cracks don't exist? If that were true, shouldn't I still be with Ethan?" She paused, letting the knife twist. "What do you think, Alexander?"
The words struck like a physical blow. Alexander's grip tightened involuntarily. Was he really no different than Ethan in her eyes?