Chapter 112

The moment Alexander threw himself at Evelyn, she lost her balance and tumbled onto a cushion.

No matter how much she tried to steady herself, her heart pounded wildly. The rapid thumping in her chest betrayed just how nervous—how terrified—she really was.

"Waaah!" Alexander wailed, his small frame trembling. The sight of him, so tiny and desperate, twisted Evelyn's heart.

She patted his back gently, her gaze lingering on the thick bandage wrapped around his knee. The faint stains of blood had been visible from the moment she spotted him.

At least the cast was off. That meant the injury wasn't too severe.

"Are you hurt?" Harrison asked, his voice tight with concern.

Thankfully, he'd reacted fast enough to cushion her fall.

When Harrison turned his attention to the child, he was about to intervene—to tell the boy that if he had a problem, he should take it up with his father, not cling to a stranger.

But before he could speak, his phone rang.

"Mr. Yates," Harrison answered.

The voice on the other end was sharp, impatient. "Harrison, are you trying to get fired? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Go. I'll handle things here."

Evelyn was flustered, her pulse still erratic. She'd heard Harrison's manager yelling through the phone.

Harrison hesitated, his eyes searching hers. "Call me if you need anything."

She nodded.

As Harrison left, he shot a glance at the boy's father—Dominic Blackwood—who stood nearby, his expression dark.

Dominic's brows were furrowed, his gaze locked onto his stubborn son, who refused to let go of Evelyn. After a tense moment, Dominic turned away, dragging his reluctant daughter with him.

The little girl kicked her feet, protesting.

Harrison knew better than to interfere. As unsettling as the scene was, it wasn't his place. He stepped outside to hail a cab.

Just as one pulled up, he caught sight of Dominic forcing his daughter into a sleek Bentley SUV before storming back into the restaurant.

Harrison slid into the taxi, stealing one last glance through the restaurant's pristine floor-to-ceiling windows.

Dominic was striding toward the table where Evelyn sat. Without hesitation, he reached down and yanked his son away from her.

The taxi pulled away.

Harrison exhaled in relief. At least the father had taken control.

"I won't go! I don't want to go with you! Never! You're heartless, Daddy!" Alexander thrashed wildly, his strength surprising for his size.

Evelyn watched helplessly, her heart aching. Her gaze darted to the street outside—Harrison was gone.

She was grateful Mr. Yates had called him away when he did.

Otherwise, she had no idea what Alexander might have blurted out.

In this life—and every life after—she would never, ever have anything to do with Dominic Blackwood again. Her future was set.

A waiter approached, carefully righting the table Alexander had knocked askew.

Evelyn grabbed her bag.

As the staff cleared the table, she headed to the register.

"The gentleman already paid," the cashier informed her with a polite smile.

Just then, Dominic re-entered the restaurant, Alexander still in his arms.

A bright yellow SpongeBob suitcase sat near the counter.

Dominic snatched it up with his free hand, his movements sharp. Not once did he look at Evelyn.

She slipped away without a word.

"Aunt Evie, save me! I don't want to go! I don't want to live with Daddy!" Alexander's voice cracked as he kicked violently, smearing dirt onto Dominic's expensive suit.

His tiny hand reached for her, his sobs wrenching.

The restaurant staff exchanged glances. Clearly, the boy knew her—why else would he call her "Aunt Evie"?

Dominic's jaw clenched as he took in his son's pitiful state, then flicked a cold glance at Evelyn, who stood frozen two meters away. His patience snapped.

"If you don’t stop this," he growled, "I’ll put you up for adoption."

Alexander sniffled. "I wish you would."

Evelyn wasn't indifferent. She just refused to get involved. She didn't want to see, hear, or think about them.

But thoughts didn't always translate to actions fast enough.

As she turned to leave, she kept her head down, pretending she hadn't heard a thing.

The boy's injuries were his father's responsibility.

"Aunt Evie... don't you love me anymore?" Alexander's broken cry shattered her resolve.

Dominic, furious, hurled the suitcase to the ground. The lock shattered on impact.

Alexander wrenched free and bolted toward Evelyn.

"Aunt Evie, please don't go!"

She tried to walk away, but before she could, tiny arms wrapped around her leg.

When she turned, Alexander was on his knees—he'd fallen in his haste. His left knee and arm were scraped raw.

Evelyn gasped. His right knee was already injured. Now both legs were bleeding.

She crouched and gathered him into her arms.

Her vision blurred as she stared at his tear-streaked face. She loved this child. Once, she'd dreamed of marrying Dominic and raising his children as her own.

But...

Afraid she might cry, she pressed her forehead to his, avoiding his watery gaze. "Don’t ever do this again," she whispered.

She couldn't take him.

He wasn't an orphan. Isabella and Alexander belonged to Dominic.

"Aunt Evie... you won't leave us, right?" Alexander sniffled, bravely ignoring his bleeding knees.

Evelyn shook her head—just slightly. She didn’t want to hurt him further.

Inside the restaurant, whispers followed.

"Did you see that? She walked away from the rich guy for the working-class one?"

"Rich doesn’t mean kind," another waiter countered. "He’s got two kids. Who wants to be a stepmom? Plus, did you see how he threw that suitcase? No woman wants a temper like that."

"Or maybe he’s just embarrassed. His son prefers her over him, and she’s with another man. That’d bruise any guy’s ego."

"...Fair point."

The two waitresses exited the bathroom, still murmuring.