The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 88

Alexander was driving Millie home tonight, which meant he probably wouldn't be coming back.

He never liked spending the night at the old family estate anyway.

Lately, Danielle was exhausted, barely getting any rest.

She'd assumed she wouldn't sleep well in the old house, but the sound of rain outside lulled her into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Somewhere between sleep and waking, she caught the faint, familiar scent of cologne drifting through the air.

She rolled over and drifted back to sleep.

The next time she opened her eyes, Danielle found herself wrapped in Alexander's arms.

He was holding her tightly, intimately close.

Her heart gave a jolt—her first instinct was to push him away.

She didn't just think it—she acted on it.

But half-asleep, Alexander frowned and instantly drew her back into his embrace, his voice low and rough with sleep. "Baby, don't move…"

Each word rang loud and clear in her ears, striking her like a bolt of lightning.

In all these years of marriage, Alexander had never called her that.

He'd never held her like this, either.

There could only be one explanation.

He'd mistaken her for Millie.

A sharp ache stabbed at her chest. So this was what their "relationship" had become?

The difference between being loved and unloved was, after all, painfully obvious.

Danielle took a steadying breath and pushed Alexander away again. "Look at me. Do you even know who I am?"

He blinked awake, his gaze finally focusing on her. When he saw who it was, his face tightened almost imperceptibly and he immediately let her go.

That told her everything. He really had thought she was someone else.

Danielle sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, putting distance between them, her expression openly disgusted.

She felt deeply uncomfortable.

Alexander sat up, glancing at her with a cool, unreadable gaze. "Grandma asked me to come back last night."

Danielle ignored him.

Of course. After all these years, only Grandma could make him listen.

Back when they were newly married, their bodies had fit together so naturally, night after night. Danielle had once believed that meant love—that love and intimacy went hand in hand.

Now she knew better. A man could want you without loving you.

After she'd given birth to Niki and Alexander started spending more and more time taking care of Millie, he'd lost all interest in her.

Looking back, she realized he'd been saving himself for Millie.

The more Danielle thought about it, the more bitter and absurd it all seemed.

She looked at Alexander. "I came to the party last night like I promised. Where's what I asked for?"

Still, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, some of her pain must have shown.

Grandma eyed her carefully. "Did you sleep alright last night? You don't look well."

As she ladled soup into Danielle's bowl, Grandma added, "Last night, Alex drove Millie home in that storm, but I called and made him come back. His wife and kids are here—he should be home. Especially with your hand hurt and you unable to drive."

"After breakfast, I'll have him take you and the kids back down the hill."

Just as she finished speaking, Alexander came downstairs, freshly changed, moving with his usual unhurried calm.

"Come eat," Grandma called to him.

Alexander sat down right next to Danielle.

He glanced at her bowl, noticing she only had soup, and reached over to put a slice of quiche on her plate. "You like this. Eat a bit more—Grandma says you're too thin."

He was always the perfect husband in front of Grandma, playing his part flawlessly.

Danielle looked at the slice of quiche and almost laughed. After all these years living together, he still hadn't noticed she hated quiche. If he'd paid the slightest attention, he'd have known she never touched it.

He had to care so little not to notice—he couldn't even play the part of a good husband convincingly.

She remembered then: Millie once mentioned she loved quiche.

Danielle's lips curled in a bitter half-smile.

After breakfast, Grandma left, reminding Alexander to drive Danielle and the kids home.

Danielle set down her fork, glanced at him coolly, and said, "You don't have to keep pretending to be a good husband. If you're not disgusted, I am."