Eleven Years All to the Wrong Man novel Chapter 48

Go back to the room?

It was only ten. Why go back to the room so early?

Emma ignored him and continued watching her show.

Mrs. Alvarez could already tell something was off. After Evan went upstairs to the bedroom, she walked over to Emma, flustered, and whispered, “Ma’am, the master doesn’t look well. Perhaps you should go check on him?”

He doesn’t look well?

Emma glanced up at the second floor skeptically before looking away. “Don’t worry about him. Just let him be.”

If he was in a bad mood, what did that have to do with her? She hadn't done anything to provoke him recently. If anyone had upset him, it was probably his little mistress.

Since Emma had said as much, Mrs. Alvarez felt it wasn’t her place to interfere in their marital issues. She just murmured, “Alright,” and returned to the kitchen.

After finishing a full episode, Emma saw that it was ten-forty. Recalling the doctor’s advice to be in bed by eleven every night, she took her empty soup bowl to the kitchen, washed up, and then went upstairs to the bedroom.

When she entered the room, she didn’t see Evan at first.

It wasn’t until she got into bed and pulled the covers up that she noticed the bedroom curtains weren’t fully drawn. Through a small gap, she saw Evan standing on the balcony with his back to her, smoking.

Smoking this late.

She thought about it but didn’t say a word. She turned off the bedside lamp and went to sleep.

The IV fluids she’d had that day had left her feeling a bit wired and unable to sleep, so she lay there with her eyes closed, her mind racing.

Suddenly, the glass door to the balcony was yanked open, and a blast of cold, howling wind flooded in like a tidal wave. The room, which had been warm just a moment ago, was instantly plunged into a biting chill.

Emma opened her eyes and looked irritably at the figure standing on the balcony. “What the hell is wrong with you? Close the door, it’s freezing!”

She rarely saw Evan this angry. He wasn’t the type to hide his feelings. When they had a conflict, it usually erupted on the spot.

Evan took a step closer, his thigh pressing against the side of the bed. He stared at Emma coldly. “You still haven't told me where you were this afternoon.”

“Where… where else would I be? I was just, you know, out and about, walking around.” Emma scrambled for an excuse. “What, are you the only one allowed to go wherever you please? I can’t even step out of the house now?”

She would never tell him about the hospital. She didn’t want Evan to know. Emma hadn’t thought too deeply about why she was so reluctant, but perhaps it was because on the day she first got the results, when she was at her most vulnerable and most wanted to tell him, he had chosen to brush her off and hang up the phone. Since then, she’d had no desire to tell him at all.

Evan didn’t know Emma was sick. All he knew was that he had seen her with another, unfamiliar man that afternoon.

“Walking around where? And with whom?” he pressed, already knowing the truth but wanting to hear her say it herself.

“The mall. Just by myself. Who else would there be?”