Chapter 442

Alexander Hamilton's voice dropped to a whisper, deliberately inaudible to Gregory Wilson on the other end of the call.

Evelyn Carter stood between them, her temples throbbing. The recent string of troubles had already drained her, leaving no energy for pointless entanglements.

"You went to see Alexander again?" Gregory's sharp intuition caught her hesitation.

"...Just ran into him."

"He clearly dislikes me."

Evelyn swiftly changed the subject. "Dr. Wilson, do you plan to stay here or return to the UK?"

"Why ask now?"

"Anesthesiologists are in demand everywhere. Wherever you choose, you'll help countless patients." Her tone was calm but distant.

A bitter chuckle traveled through the line. "I see. I'll... keep my distance from now on."

She pressed her lips together but didn't deny it.

"I'll consider your suggestion carefully." His voice tightened.

"Good."

Hanging up, Evelyn strode toward the restaurant without looking back, leaving Alexander's probing gaze behind.

Vivian Dempsey poked listlessly at her plate. "They moved to another spot for photos. Alexander treats Lydia Laurent far better than he ever did Annabelle."

"New love, new priorities." Evelyn replied absently.

"You look pale."

"The corridors were confusing—almost got lost." She deflected, scooping a spoonful of milk custard.

After dinner, Vivian insisted on driving her home.

"No need." Evelyn declined gently. "Dempsey Group must be swarming with work."

Mentioning the company made Vivian's face cloud over, successfully diverting her.

When the taxi stopped at her apartment, the motion-activated hallway light flickered on. Gregory stood by her door, grocery bags and toolbox in hand, squinting against the sudden brightness.

"So late?"

"Your bedroom light's out. Not safe." His smile was warm.

Evelyn checked her watch. "The maintenance crew can handle it tomorrow."

"Safety first for women living alone." His tone brooked no argument.

White Coat bounded over, nuzzling Evelyn before pawing Gregory's pants excitedly.

"Good boy. Walk later." Gregory tied on an apron with practiced ease. "Bought fresh brisket for stew."

The refrigerator door clicked open in the kitchen.

Evelyn took a deep breath. "Dr. Wilson, really—it's unnecessary."

"Not a fan of beef? There's fish—"

"I ate out." She met his gaze squarely. "And please don't come to cook anymore. I can manage."

The air froze.

Gregory's smile stiffened, then smoothed over. "Consider it a gift for White Coat. If it bothers you, I won't bring food again."

"Good." She nodded.

Between intelligent people, some things needn't be spelled out.

"Understood." He untied the apron slowly. "But the light still needs fixing."

Tools clinked softly. Evelyn sat on the sofa, staring into the inky night outside. Gregory walked toward the bedroom, his tall frame casting a lonely shadow.