The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 731

A fine sheen of cold sweat had broken out across Alexander’s forehead, growing heavier by the second. His lips, pale and bloodless, parted as if he wanted to say something more, but he found he simply didn’t have the strength.

“You had your reasons for everything you did,” Danielle said quietly, meeting his gaze. “And I had mine for every choice I made. But sometimes, when you make the wrong decision, you have to pay the price for it.”

She watched him for a moment longer. “We need to find a time to talk—really talk—about all of this.”

Alexander clenched his jaw, biting back whatever he wanted to say, and finally managed a faint, “Alright…”

Danielle took a deep breath, ready to head down the hall and wake Niki so they could finally leave.

But as she passed Alexander, she saw him sway—and then, without warning, he collapsed.

Danielle caught him out of pure instinct.

He was heavy, so heavy that she nearly staggered back under his weight.

That’s when she noticed the blood—his right hand was injured again, blood seeping through his fingers.

If he lost too much, if the bleeding didn’t stop, he could slip into shock. He could die.

Danielle patted his face, trying to force him back to consciousness.

But Alexander’s eyes stayed shut tight, his face ghostly pale.

She’d never seen him like this before—broken, exhausted, almost unrecognizable.

Something twisted inside her, a rush of feelings she couldn’t quite name.

And there were those things he’d said today—words she was still struggling to process.

Clearly, there was a story behind all of this, something he still hadn’t told her.

They really did need to sit down and talk, properly, once and for all.

She had so many questions, too many for a single conversation. She should probably write them all down, make a list.

Maybe then, they could work through everything that needed to be said—clear the air, so that the next time they saw each other, there wouldn’t be any more misunderstandings or unspoken resentment.

Even if there was no love left, even if they truly went their separate ways, at least they could say goodbye honestly and leave the past behind.

But now, as Alexander failed to respond, a surge of panic shot through her.

“Alexander, wake up…”

Rebecca shot Danielle a look. “No need to panic. He always pulls reckless stunts like this, but somehow, he manages to come back from the brink every time.”

It sounded like this wasn’t the first time Alexander had been this close to death.

Danielle stood there, weighed down by the gravity of it all.

The medical team worked quickly—stopping the bleeding, patching him up, doing everything they could.

Rebecca turned to Danielle. “Would you like to talk in private?”

Danielle followed her to a quiet room down the hall.

She couldn’t let it go—those words Rebecca had said. “You said he’s always risking his life, always making it through by the skin of his teeth. What does that mean?”

She hesitated, then blurted out, “You once told him to take medication. Was he sick?”

Rebecca crossed her arms over her chest. “I thought, after living with him for so many years, you’d know. Apparently, you didn’t love him as much as I thought.”

Her voice was soft, but there was a weight behind it. “He’s tried countless times to end his own pain. What kind of sickness do you think that is?”