The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1320

Danielle's heart skipped a beat, and she nodded. "Yes. Is something wrong?"

"Mr. Davidson's medical reports just came back."

Dr. Laura lowered his voice. "The situation is not optimistic. His physical condition is much, much worse than we anticipated. Given his chronic exhaustion and overwork, we strongly advised him to be hospitalized immediately for treatment. But..."

Dr. Laura sighed heavily before continuing. "He refused."

"Ms. Crawford... does Mr. Davidson have something weighing heavily on his mind?"

"If he keeps going like this, his body is going to completely collapse."

"You're the person closest to him. You have to talk some sense into him."

"Tell him to stop pushing himself to the absolute brink. There's always more money to be made, but his health has to come first."

Danielle's ears rang, and she felt as if she’d been hit by a sledgehammer..

She thought about how Alexander had looked lately—constantly exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes growing heavier by the day. Sometimes, while eating, he would subconsciously frown in pain.

She had assumed he was just swamped with work. She never imagined it was this severe.

"I understand. Thank you, Dr. Laura."

Danielle's voice trembled slightly.

Seeing her pale complexion, Dr. Laura gently patted her shoulder. "Please, try to persuade him."

"Don't wait until it's too late to fix this."

After Dr. Laura left, Danielle stood rooted to the spot for a long time, completely motionless.

Her chest felt suffocatingly tight, a heavy knot of dread making it hard to breathe.

After what felt like an eternity, the doors to the emergency room opened.

A doctor stepped out and shook his head at Danielle. "The patient is perfectly fine. He just had too much to drink and a touch of low blood sugar."

"He'll be fine after a little rest."

Relief washed over Danielle, immediately followed by a fierce surge of anger.

She marched into the ER and found Orson sitting on a hospital bed, sneaking bites of an apple.

The moment he saw her walk in, he dropped the apple and resumed his pathetic groaning.

Danielle's voice was deadly cold. "Drop the act. The doctor already told me you're perfectly fine."

The color drained from Orson's face, and he wisely snapped his mouth shut.

Danielle pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

It didn't take long for a rough male voice to answer. "Hello, Ms. Crawford."

"Mr. Jewell," Danielle said, her voice completely devoid of emotion. "I will pay off Orson's gambling debt."

"But on one condition."

Mr. Jewell paused in surprise, then let out a sleazy chuckle. "Name it, Ms. Crawford."

"From this day forward, you are never to lend him another dime, and you are never to harass him again."

Danielle kept her eyes locked on Orson as she spoke. "I will wire the money to your account."

"But if I ever hear that you've involved yourself with him again, I'll make sure your casino shuts down for good."

Mr. Jewell fell silent for a moment before laughing. "Deal. When Ms. Crawford gives her word, I know I can trust it."

Hanging up the phone, Danielle glared at Orson. "I've paid off your debt."

"You are packing your things and leaving that apartment today. From now on, you're on your own."

Dr. Laura's grim warning echoed in her mind, layering over the memory of Alexander's exhausted face. Her heart ached fiercely for him.

She got up, went into the kitchen, and simmered a hearty broth to settle his stomach.

She also prepared a few of his favorite dishes and set them on the dining table.

Then, she sat in the living room and waited for him to return.

Minute after minute ticked by.

The food on the table grew cold.

The broth on the stove lost its heat.

Leaning against the sofa, Danielle unknowingly drifted off to sleep.

In her dreams, she saw Alexander lying in a hospital bed, his skin deathly pale.

She reached out desperately to grab his hand, but he was always just out of reach.

She didn't know how much time had passed when the sound of the front door opening jolted her awake.

Her eyes snapped open just in time to see Alexander stumbling through the entryway.

His face was ashen, his eyes bloodshot, and he looked like a man pushed to the absolute limits of human endurance.

Danielle's heart seized in her chest.

She sprang up and rushed over, catching his swaying body just before he collapsed. "Alexander, how much did you drink?"

Alexander lifted his head. The moment he saw her, the hazy fog in his eyes cleared slightly.

A small, weary smile broke across his face. He wrapped his arms around her, his voice rough but infinitely tender. "I'm home..."

His embrace was burning hot, heavily laced with the scent of alcohol—