Chapter 88

The moment the words left her lips, the air between them turned to ice.

Alexander loomed over Evelyn, his dark eyes burning with fury. "What did you just say? Repeat it."

"Divorce." Evelyn didn't hesitate. The word was sharp, final.

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Then, Alexander let out a cold, mocking laugh. His gaze was blacker than the devil's, promising nothing but torment.

"Divorce?" His voice was a blade, cutting through the tension. "You think I'd ever let that happen?"

Evelyn's heart cracked a little more.

"You were the one who begged to be my wife," he continued, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. "Consider this your wish granted."

She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. "I don't want it anymore. Alexander Blackwood, I want a divorce."

"Dream on." His fingers dug into her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Is this because you've found another man? Evelyn, have you no shame?"

Have you no shame?

The words carved into her like a knife. His insults came effortlessly, each one more vicious than the last.

"You claimed you carried my child three years ago," he sneered. "You made me pay for its death. But now I wonder—was it even mine? With all the men you've entertained, how could you possibly know?"

Evelyn's hands trembled violently. The pain in her chest was unbearable, as if her heart had been ripped open.

She clenched her teeth, her red-rimmed eyes burning into his.

Alexander scoffed, releasing her with a look of disgust. "Save your pathetic act. A woman like you belongs behind bars."

He turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing like a death knell.

Evelyn watched him go, her vision blurring. The moment he was out of sight, she doubled over, coughing violently. Blood splattered onto her palm.

Her stomach burned. The tumor gnawed at her insides. She curled into herself, fingers twisting into the sheets.

The pillow still smelled like him—his cologne, his warmth. It was poison, seeping into her veins, destroying her from within.

She had once believed their love would be legendary.

Instead, all he'd given her was agony.

Evelyn spent the entire day in bed, unnoticed.

She searched her symptoms online—acute gastric mucosal lesions. Too afraid to face a doctor, she dragged herself to the pharmacy instead.

If the worst came, she still had a few months left.

The weekend passed in a haze. She changed the bloodstained sheets, packed a small bag, and fled to Olivia’s apartment.

By Monday, she forced herself back to work. Her colleagues treated her kindly—except for Catherine, whose mood swings had grown more erratic.

At lunch, Evelyn returned Sebastian’s freshly laundered jacket.

He was on the phone when she entered, but motioned for her to wait.

When he hung up, she handed him the neatly folded garment. Sebastian smiled. "You actually washed it?"

"I keep my promises," she said softly. "Besides, you only got coffee spilled on you because of me."

"What kind of man would I be if I stood by and did nothing?"

His words warmed her, if only for a moment.

Then she remembered the man who had once promised to protect her forever—and her heart shattered all over again.