Eleven Years All to the Wrong Man novel Chapter 60

He grabbed her hand, his eyes filled with pain as he pleaded.

Trust him? How could she?

Even if everything he said was true, that he was working late last night, that the photo was from a long time ago… so what? It proved nothing.

It was the classic story of the boy who cried wolf. After so many lies, no one would believe him anymore.

Even a child understood a principle that simple.

Emma forcefully pulled her hand from Evan’s tight grasp.

She looked at the man she had loved for eleven years and suddenly let out a soft sigh.

***

Evan didn’t sleep well all night. Every time he was about to drift off, he would jolt awake from a dream, as if it were a stress response.

Only when he opened his eyes and saw Emma still beside him would his tense heart gradually calm down.

It was like that all night, a repeating cycle that never ceased.

The next morning, as the first ray of sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains and into the room, Evan finally let out a breath of relief.

He opened his eyes and looked at Emma, who was still fast asleep beside him.

Her delicate nose, the sweep of her long lashes, her pale red lips, and her flawless skin.

Eleven years, and her face seemed unchanged.

He felt as if at any moment, she would open those bright, lovely eyes, smile, and throw herself into his arms, burying her head shyly in his chest, holding him and asking him to stay with her just a little longer.

And him?

Evan stared at her blankly, first nodding, then shaking his head.

“No, you stay in bed for a while longer. I’ll make breakfast. You rest.”

With that, he got out of bed, quickly threw on some loungewear, and went downstairs.

Since he offered, Emma didn’t object. She lay back down on the bed, still feeling sleepy and tired. She closed her eyes again, drifting off.

Downstairs, Evan pulled the few ingredients they had from the refrigerator and made a simple sandwich with hot milk.

He carried the breakfast upstairs, placed it on her bedside table, then went to the bathroom to wet a towel. He returned to the bed and called to her softly, “Breakfast is ready. Let me just wipe your face, then you can eat and go back to sleep, okay?”

Hearing his voice, Emma opened her drowsy eyes and held out a fair, slender hand. Evan took it, gently helping her sit up.

He sat on the edge of the bed, softly wiping her face, just like he used to in the first few years of their relationship.