The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1081

Alexander's car pulled up to the villa they had once shared. He pushed the door open and stumbled into the living room, his steps unsteady. The moment he shrugged off his black overcoat, a wave of profound exhaustion washed over him.

His body felt heavy, as if crushed under a massive weight, and he barely had the strength to lift a hand. An indescribable tightness constricted his chest, making each breath a ragged, painful effort.

He loosened his tie and threw himself onto the sofa, closing his eyes and hoping for a moment of rest. But his mind was painfully alert. Scenes from the birthday party—Danielle's distant gaze, Vivian's cold attitude, and Niki's cautious demeanor—played on a relentless loop, impossible to shake.

In the dead of night, the emotional abyss brought on by his severe depression deepened. Loneliness and despair engulfed him like a rising tide, and he could feel the barren wasteland inside his heart, devoid of any sign of life.

His fingers instinctively searched his pocket for a cigarette, but it was empty; he'd smoked the last of them in the car. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and stood to get some sedatives from his study, but a knock sounded at the front door.

At this hour, it could only be Rebecca and Sammie. He opened the door to find them standing there as expected, holding an insulated container, their faces etched with worry.

"We heard you went to Aunt Vivian’s birthday party, so we came to check on you," Rebecca said, walking straight into the living room. Her gaze swept over Alexander’s pale face and the dark circles under his eyes, her brow instantly furrowing. "What's wrong with you? Haven't you been resting again?"

Sammie placed the container on the table and opened the lid, revealing a warm, nourishing soup. "I had my aunt make this for you. You should have at least a little." Alexander didn't move, just leaned against the doorframe, his voice hoarse. "No, thanks. I don't have an appetite."

Sammie put a hand on Rebecca’s shoulder, signaling for him to calm down, then turned to Alexander. "We know this is hard for you, but running away won't solve anything. You need treatment, not for anyone else, but for yourself. Only when you're well can you truly protect the people you want to protect."

Alexander didn't respond. He simply turned and walked toward his study, leaving behind a cold parting shot. "I'm tired. I want to rest. You two should go home."

Rebecca wanted to say more, but Sammie held him back. They exchanged a look of shared helplessness. Sammie picked up the insulated container from the table. "I'll leave the soup here. Remember to drink it. Call us anytime if you need anything."

After they left, the study fell back into a dead silence. Alexander sat at his desk, staring out at the heavy darkness, his heart a complete wasteland.