The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 715

Danielle’s heart skipped a beat, and suddenly her eyes burned with tears. All the hurt, fear, and sorrow she’d bottled up these past days seemed to break free at once, rushing forward in a wave she could no longer hold back.

“My shoulder,” Alexander said quietly, watching her with a storm of emotions swirling in his eyes—guilt, tenderness, and a fragile, almost pleading hope—“you can lean on it too, if you need.”

She stared at him, stunned, taking in the seriousness etched on his face, the stubble shadowing his jaw, and the exhaustion that seemed to cling to him like a second skin.

This man had once been the promise of her youth, the dream she chased through sleepless nights, and later, the wound that never quite healed.

Between them now stretched Millie’s manipulations, three years of silence, and the unanswered questions surrounding her grandmother’s death.

And, more than anything, the weight of two lives lost.

Yet in this moment, the warmth of his hand and the low rumble of his voice loosened something inside her, a knot she’d carried for so long she’d almost forgotten it was there.

She wanted to push him away, to call him a liar, to demand where he’d been all this time.

But when she opened her mouth, none of the words came out. Instead, a silent sob choked her, and tears spilled over, blurring her vision.

Alexander’s heart twisted painfully as he saw her reddened eyes. He reached out, pulling her gently but firmly into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, voice rough as gravel above her head. “You don’t have to hold it in here.”

Danielle stood at his side, the crisp scent of cedar on his coat filling her senses—a smell she’d once known by heart.

Outside, the wind kept blowing, white paper lanterns swayed in the branches. Somewhere in the old house, the solemn murmur of prayers had faded into silence, leaving nothing but the sound of their breathing.

Danielle shook her head, stepping back, retreating several paces.

They were supposed to be strangers now.

She swallowed, her voice icy. “You want me to lean on your shoulder now, Alexander? After everything? After you stood by and did nothing? After all these years of silence?”

Alexander’s throat worked, pain and desperation flashing across his face.

Suddenly, he stepped forward and pulled her into a fierce embrace, ignoring her struggle, holding her so tightly it was as if he wanted to fuse their bones together.

“Danielle, why can’t you trust me—just this once?”

His arms were unyielding, refusing to let her go, as though he could somehow erase the years of distance between them.

Danielle froze in his hold, all the strength draining from her body until only exhaustion and confusion remained.

Her voice was chilled and distant. “Alexander. Let go.”