The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1180

The harsh coughs wracked his body, sending a tearing pain through his chest that made every breath burn. When he slowly pulled his hand away, the dim streetlight revealed the stark, red glint of blood in his palm.

“Mr. Davidson!” Nash rushed out of the car in a panic, steadying Alexander as he swayed. “Are you alright? We need to get you to a hospital!”

This wasn’t the first time he had coughed up blood. Even before his depression worsened, the years of relentless stress and emotional turmoil had taken a severe toll on his body, leading to occasional episodes like this. He carried too many burdens, bore too much weight on his shoulders, and had never known a moment of true peace. All those emotions had pressed down on him like stones, and over time, they had finally broken his health.

Alexander waved him off, pushing away Nash’s supporting arm and forcing himself to stand straight. His voice was so hoarse it was barely a whisper. “No, I’m fine.”

He slowly sank back into the car, leaned against the headrest, and closed his eyes. In the darkness, his face was ashen, his brow tightly furrowed.

“I’m not even human,” he said suddenly, his voice faint, like a ripple on stagnant water.

Knowing was one thing, but digging deeper and confirming the truth was another entirely.

Nash stood frozen, opening his mouth but finding no words. He had been by Alexander’s side for years, had watched him get to where he was today. He knew the unimaginable pressure his boss had endured and knew how deeply he loved Danielle and Niki. But some mistakes, once made, could never be undone. Alexander’s obsession and guilt would only drag him into deeper despair.

“Mr. Davidson, nobody’s a saint. Everyone makes mistakes,” Nash finally said softly after a long pause. “You didn’t have a god’s-eye view back then. You couldn’t have predicted everything or planned for every outcome.”

“The situation you were in was a no-win scenario you couldn’t escape. Anyone would have been torn, but you felt it more deeply and more intensely than anyone else would have.”

Just then, the passenger door opened, and Nash hurried over, his face etched with anxiety and worry. “Miss Crawford, you’re awake.”

“Why is Alexander here?”

Nash sighed and said in a low voice, “Mr. Davidson has been here all night. He never left.”

“And… he was coughing up blood last night. He’s not doing well.”

Danielle’s heart clenched. She instinctively looked toward the car. Through the window, she could see Alexander leaning against the driver’s seat.