Chapter 741

New Year's Eve fireworks illuminated the entire city.

Alexander Hamilton lifted Evelyn Carter high, making her the brightest presence in the crowd.

As the clock struck midnight, heart-shaped balloons filled the sky. Evelyn's gaze traveled over the sea of people, watching the dazzling balloon spectacle drift across the night.

"So this is the romance young people love," she murmured softly.

Alexander's arms remained steady as stone. Around them, couples had long given up, lowering their partners to the ground. Only he still held Evelyn effortlessly.

"Tired?" she asked, looking down at him.

He tilted his head up, his eyes reflecting the fireworks. "Not at all. Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful."

"Then it's worth it."

Noticing the faint tremble in his arms, she whispered, "Put me down."

Only then did Alexander slowly crouch, carefully setting her and their baby on the ground. The little one giggled excitedly, pointing at the sky with babbling enthusiasm.

"Does she want a balloon?" Evelyn asked with a smile.

Alexander scanned their surroundings. "The ones released are gone, but there should be vendors ahead."

He flexed his aching leg subtly. Evelyn caught sight of his scuffed dress shoes and couldn't help asking again, "Is your leg really okay? You startled me when you suddenly lifted me earlier."

The thought of potentially falling and hurting their baby made her grip the stroller handle tightly.

Alexander merely smiled, unbothered. "If I couldn't handle carrying my girls, what kind of man would I be?"

Evelyn settled the baby back into the stroller, and Alexander naturally took the handle. "Let's go see what's ahead."

Amid the New Year's revelry, everyone carried their own stories—some hopeful for the year ahead, others just seeking escape from the shadows of the past.

Evelyn watched the sparkling sky, silently bidding farewell to yesterday.

Alexander quickly found a balloon vendor. Among the usual helium balloons were long, twisted animal shapes—retro toys that made Evelyn freeze.

"My dad used to buy these for me when I was little," she said without thinking. "Later, when money was tight, he learned to make them himself..." Catching herself, she quickly changed the subject. "I didn’t expect them to come back in style."

As Alexander tied a balloon for their baby, he immediately reached for the long ones. Evelyn stopped him. "There's no room in the stroller. We should head home."

She didn’t notice him quietly purchasing a few uninflated balloons.

Morning sunlight streamed through the curtains.

Evelyn opened her eyes to find a balloon dog resting on her nightstand.

She rubbed her eyes, wondering if she was still dreaming. She hadn’t bought such childish toys since adulthood. The last time she’d received one was from Vivian, earning endless teasing from Annabelle.

The crib was empty—Alexander must have taken their early-rising baby. Evelyn picked up the balloon dog, the rubber cool against her fingertips.

The bedroom door creaked open softly.

Alexander tiptoed in with the baby, only to freeze when he met Evelyn’s alert gaze.

"Morning," she said, shaking the balloon and making the baby laugh.

He settled their daughter back into the crib and draped a shawl over Evelyn’s shoulders. "This little tyrant woke up an hour ago and even slapped me."

Though complaining, his voice brimmed with affection.

"This..." She held up the balloon dog. "Did you go out early to buy it?"

"I made it." Alexander studied her. "I guessed you didn’t refuse last night because you didn’t want one—you just feared a store-bought version wouldn’t match your memories."

The balloon dog was identical to the ones her father had once crafted.

The late morning sun was warm.

Evelyn and Alexander had breakfast in the greenhouse with their baby. Grace Anderson and Margaret Hamilton had stayed overnight at Anthony Taylor’s, and even Auntie Wu had gone home for the holiday.

The grand dining room felt unusually quiet.

"Let’s eat in the greenhouse," Alexander said suddenly. "There’s something I want to show you."

His gaze drifted toward the window, where something glimmered in the daylight.