Chapter 779

The stars had filled the night sky by the time their passion subsided.

Evelyn Carter lay limp, every fingertip tingling with exhaustion. She shifted weakly, curling up at the edge of the freshly changed sheets.

Before drifting into unconsciousness, a medical journal's claim flashed through her mind—

Male sexual performance declines significantly after thirty.

Apparently, academic studies have exceptions.

When dawn light seeped through the curtains, Evelyn found the bedsheets beneath her replaced. If not for the dull ache in her waist, she might've believed last night was just a feverish dream.

The dream's leading man...

Her ears burned scarlet.

The bedroom door creaked open. Alexander Hamilton stood there with a towel loosely tied around his waist, water droplets still clinging to his hair.

Their gazes locked, and last night's memories replayed simultaneously in both minds.

Alexander looked away first. His Adam's apple bobbed as he focused on the potted plant by the window.

If Evelyn wanted to draw boundaries, he had no right to object.

"Last night..." Evelyn cleared her throat. "Did you ingest something by mistake? Your body temperature was abnormally high."

The angry red scratches across Alexander's shoulders stood out starkly. He grabbed a shirt and shrugged it on, voice tight. "I checked. That red bottle was deer blood wine."

"Deer blood?"

"From a mature stag," he added.

The AC hummed uselessly against the thick awkwardness.

Evelyn tugged at the blanket's edge. "Don't randomly drink gifts from others next time."

"Mm." Alexander's knuckles whitened.

What should've been a tender morning felt like an awkward first date. Evelyn studied the quilt's embroidery. "The sheets..."

"I wanted you to sleep comfortably." Finally, a proper sentence.

She exhaled inwardly. "Get me some pajamas."

As the wardrobe door clicked, Evelyn stared blankly at the ceiling. They'd agreed to maintain distance—how had things crossed the line?

Steam clouded the bathroom mirror until she wiped it away, revealing scattered love bites. Her fingers trembled as hot water ran endlessly before her stiff muscles finally relaxed.

The aroma of congee drifted from the kitchen. Alexander was drizzling sesame oil over pickled vegetables when she entered. His hand jerked, the porcelain spoon clinking sharply against the bowl.

"Make do with this." His voice barely carried.

The century egg and pork congee was perfectly cooked. Evelyn lifted a spoonful. "No need for takeout."

Alexander's chopsticks stilled. Right. She could manage perfectly fine without him.

After clearing the dishes, Evelyn suddenly asked, "What do we tell them when we return?"

"Say I was dead drunk." He shouldered all responsibility.

As she nodded, Evelyn noticed the broken skin at the corner of his mouth.

They maintained half a meter's distance on the return trip. Evelyn walked ahead while Alexander carried the fruit basket like a cheating husband caught red-handed.

Laughter spilled from the ancestral home's parlor. Four elders surrounded the baby's bassinet, none questioning their overnight absence.

"Grapes?" Margaret Hamilton smiled knowingly. "Evelyn's favorite."

Evelyn nearly choked on her saliva. She hurried to the stroller. "Did the baby fuss last night?"

Colorful building blocks littered the carpet. As Alexander knelt to gather them, faint scratch marks peeked above his collar. Teresa Taylor's teacup rattled in its saucer.

Grace Anderson abruptly suggested, "Should you two...move back in with us?"

The rattle slipped from Evelyn's fingers and clattered to the floor.