The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 737

“But…” Niki twisted the corner of the tablecloth between her fingers. “This morning, I saw blood on your bandage.”

Danielle was quietly tidying up the mess nearby. Her hands paused when she heard the words.

Alexander set down his napkin and reached out with his uninjured left hand. After a brief hesitation, he gently touched Niki’s hair.

Her hair was soft, smooth as the finest silk. “It’s not bleeding anymore, Niki. You don’t have to worry,” he said.

His fingertips were a bit rough, calloused from years of writing. When they brushed her scalp, Niki flinched slightly but didn’t pull away.

It was the first time in a very long while that her father had reached out to her like this.

She snuck a glance up at him and noticed his mouth wasn’t set in such a hard line anymore; there was a new softness in his eyes.

Mustering her courage, she pushed a piece of roasted squash from her bowl toward him. “This one is really sweet. You should have it.”

Alexander looked at the small piece of squash, then back at his daughter’s bright, hopeful eyes. Something gentle nudged at his heart, leaving a bittersweet warmth.

He nodded, scooped up the squash with his spoon, and slowly placed it in his mouth.

Danielle came over with a new spoon in hand. She paused when she saw what was happening, drawing in a quiet breath.

Sometimes she wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not for her daughter to spend more time with him.

But looking at Niki now—so happy, so full of light—Danielle closed her eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t interfere.

Without saying a word, she set the spoon in front of Niki and sat down to eat as well.

For once, the three of them shared a meal that felt genuinely harmonious.

That peace lasted all the way until dinner was over.

Alexander’s phone buzzed on the coffee table in the living room.

He rubbed his brow with his left hand, paused at the sound, and stood to answer it.

Alexander clearly hadn’t expected her to insist. His voice was steady, almost detached. “No, stay and rest.”

Danielle didn’t move. She simply looked up at him.

The light from the living room cast a shadow across her face, obscuring her expression. But her eyes were bright—unyielding, as if something inside her refused to be extinguished.

“If anyone here needs rest, it’s you. So you don’t have to tell me to stay behind.”

“Danielle, once everything is settled, I’ll let you come,” Alexander replied, his tone flat but final, leaving no room for argument.

He grabbed his jacket from the couch, his right hand curling slightly, the fresh bandage from that morning already showing a dark stain at the edge.

Danielle stepped forward, stopping just in front of him—not too close, but close enough for him to see the determination in her eyes.

“Alexander.” Her voice was quiet but carried a rare, stubborn edge. “If you want me to trust you, if you want my cooperation, then you should take me with you.”