Ophelia Gets Thrown Out (Ophelia) novel Chapter 68

**Paths Lead To Purpose — Kevin Masters**

**Chapter 68**

“Well, he did get hurt because of you,” Victoria said softly, her tone gentle yet firm. She studied Ophelia’s expression, hoping to convey her concern without seeming harsh. “It might be a good idea for you to check in on him more frequently. Just see if he needs anything, and keep me updated.”

Tristan’s thoughts weighed heavily on Ophelia; the Rowles bore some responsibility for the incident, which was why he believed it was wise for her to keep a closer watch on Alaric.

“I see…” Ophelia murmured, her brow furrowing slightly.

She understood the underlying motivations of her family. The Caldwells and the Rowles had a long, intertwined history, one that was difficult to ignore.

Alaric had sustained his injuries at the Rowles’ event, and until he fully recovered, the matter would linger like an unwelcome guest. Her family couldn’t simply turn a blind eye to it.

But the last thing she wanted was to face him again. Just thinking about Alaric’s domineering and often unreasonable demeanor was enough to send a wave of frustration coursing through her.

“Does that bother you, Ophelia?” Victoria inquired, her perceptive eyes catching the hesitation in her daughter’s demeanor.

“Mom, Ophelia was up all night taking care of Mr. Caldwell. She must be utterly exhausted,” Zoe interjected sweetly, a hint of ulterior motive in her voice. She had been waiting for just such an opportunity to step in. “Why don’t I go instead? I’d be more than happy to help.”

“You?” Victoria replied, her uncertainty evident.

Tristan had specifically requested Ophelia to look after Alaric, and while she felt sympathy for her daughter’s plight, Victoria couldn’t ignore the reasoning behind Tristan and Adrian’s request.

They were hopeful that perhaps something might blossom between Ophelia and Alaric, a notion that made Victoria uneasy.

However, with Zoe so eagerly volunteering, the atmosphere shifted awkwardly. After all, as far as anyone knew, Zoe was still engaged to Alaric, despite the chilly distance that had grown between them.

If Zoe were to show up at the hospital, it was likely that Alaric wouldn’t take it well.

“Honestly, I don’t mind,” Zoe insisted, her tone a mix of determination and feigned generosity. “Our family is partly responsible for what happened, and I’d be glad to represent us.”

“We wouldn’t want Mr. Zachary Caldwell to think we’re being neglectful,” she added, deliberately invoking Zachary’s name as a way to apply pressure on Victoria.

“Grandpa already reached out to him directly,” Ophelia replied coolly, her voice steady. “I doubt Mr. Zachary Caldwell would jump to any hasty conclusions.”

“If you want to visit Mr. Caldwell, just say so. No need to dress it up as some noble gesture or insult Mr. Zachary Caldwell’s intelligence in the process,” she continued, her patience wearing thin.

Ophelia had grown tired of Zoe’s pretentious kindness and wasn’t afraid to call her out on it.

Zoe’s complexion paled, a flash of anger crossing her features. “That’s not what I meant at all. But you’ve always been so quick to assume the worst about me that there’s no point in explaining myself. If you don’t want me to go to the hospital, then you can take care of Mr. Caldwell yourself.”

Outwardly, she maintained an appearance of compliance, but inside, she was seething. *Damn it. She’s just trying to keep me away from Alaric!*

Victoria contemplated Ophelia’s perspective. “What do you think, Ophelia?”

Seeing the hopeful glimmer in her mother’s eyes, Ophelia sighed, feeling a mix of reluctance and obligation. “Don’t worry. I’ll stop by when I can. And I’ve already arranged for a professional caregiver. He’ll be well looked after.”

She was resolute in her desire to limit her interactions with Alaric. She wouldn’t go unless absolutely necessary.

“Alright then,” Victoria conceded, a hint of relief in her voice. “You’ve made good arrangements.”

While she understood Tristan and Adrian’s aspirations, with Ophelia managing everything so efficiently, she couldn’t very well insist on her going.

“Then I’ll head upstairs,” Ophelia said, a faint smile breaking through her weariness, grateful to have navigated the conversation successfully.

It was only then that Victoria recalled her daughter might not have had breakfast. “Have you eaten anything, Ophelia?”

“Not yet. I plan to shower and change first. Could you ask the kitchen to send something up to my room? I’d like to rest after I eat,” Ophelia replied, her voice tinged with fatigue.

Understanding how drained she must feel, Victoria nodded immediately. “Of course. Make sure you get some proper rest.”

Ophelia acknowledged her mother’s concern with a nod before stepping into the elevator.

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