The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 630

At his age, Mr. Hawthorne had developed an almost philosophical understanding of certain things—he saw through the world’s illusions with a clarity that came only from experience.

“When you got married, I truly wished you happiness,” he said, his voice gentle. “After all, Alexander was once considered a prodigy in the aerospace field.”

He let out a long, heavy sigh. “But families like ours… they rarely breed warmth or loyalty.”

Mr. Hawthorne paused, lost in memory. “Alexander left the industry back then because his mentor passed away. I remember thinking what a loss that was—not just for him, but for the whole research community. His mentor’s death was shrouded in mystery. Even now, no one knows what really happened, and it’s still an unsolved case.”

“I always thought Alexander was a good kid—he respected his mentor deeply. That man once saved his life, pulled him out of a terrible situation. Alexander honored him, treated people with respect. I believed someone like that would be loyal and true. I thought you’d be happy, marrying him. But in the end, I was wrong about him.”

Regret tinged every word Mr. Hawthorne spoke.

“It just goes to show—a man can be responsible and outstanding in his career, but that doesn’t mean he’ll bring that same devotion to his marriage or family.”

Danielle’s heart tightened, her brows drawn. “I’ve heard about this… about his mentor’s death,” she murmured.

“What exactly happened?” she asked quietly. “Wasn’t there an investigation? Was nothing ever found?”

Mr. Hawthorne shook his head. “Strange case, that one. No real answers.”

He sighed again, as if the weight of old secrets pressed down on him. “But some things are better left unspoken.”

Danielle realized, with a jolt, that Alexander had never once mentioned any of this. He never talked about his past—never let her in.

She hesitated, then asked, “Do you know when his mentor passed away?”

Mr. Hawthorne considered for a moment, then nodded. “Six years ago. Early July—the eighth, I believe.”

The date hit Danielle like a physical blow. Her face paled instantly.

Gian, watching her closely, frowned. “What is it? That date… does it mean something? Did you remember something?”

Danielle bit her lower lip hard, shaking her head slightly.

Early June—she and Alexander had slept together for the first time. Alexander had said he would take responsibility, but never explained what that meant.

She’d loved him—wanted to marry him, to build a life together.

And now she was the one carrying his child, the one everyone said forced him into marriage.

Yet after they married, Alexander fulfilled his duties as a husband. Their life together was calm, almost harmonious. He came home every night—they shared a bed, their passion drawing them together again and again.

She’d truly believed there was love between them.

But it was only later Danielle realized that Alexander never loved her—he only craved her body.

Their first year of marriage, things had been… peaceful, even if not exactly loving. They weren’t like most couples, but they certainly weren’t as cold and distant as they were now. Strangers, almost.

Danielle had never known that the day they married was also the anniversary of his mentor’s death.

If that was the case—then Alexander must truly hate her.

His grief should have been for his mentor, but instead, she—along with her family—had forced him into marriage.

No wonder his heart had never been hers.