All Chapters of Rejected By My Husband, Desired By My Doctor : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

EvelynThrough that morning, I tried calling Damien over and over.The line rang through to voicemail. I tried again. Same result. The third attempt ended the same way. A cold, tight anger began building under the exhaustion and heartbreak that had kept me awake most of the night.He arrived at the apartment two hours later. The bruises along his jaw had deepened to a dull purple, and he still moved with the careful stiffness of someone whose body had not finished recovering from the fight, but his expression carried a calm resolve that only made my anger sharper.I met him at the door and did not let him fully inside before I spoke.“You filed the case.”“Yes.”“After I specifically asked you to wait. After I told you I wanted to speak to him first.”Damien closed the door behind him and faced me fully. “I heard you last night, Evelyn. Every word. You came back from that house broken because you walked in on him with her, with the same woman he carried to business gatherings to flaun

EvelynI agreed to meet Lena Martins two days after her message arrived.Kendall had begun covering more of the daily costs than either of us was comfortable with, and the feeling of that dependence sat constantly at the edge of every conversation. Damien’s practical support remained available, but accepting it only deepened the complicated reliance I was already trying not to examine too closely. In that climate, the possibility of speaking in my own words—however risky—felt like the only remaining lever I still had any claim to.We met in a quiet corner of a small café Lena had suggested, far enough from the usual media circuits. She was already seated when I arrived, a notebook and a single phone on the table, no visible recorder at first glance. She stood, shook my hand with clean professionalism, and waited until I was settled before she spoke.“Thank you for coming,” she said. “I know the recent coverage has given you every reason to distrust anyone with a press credential.”“

EvelynKendall found me still standing near the door when she returned. “Someone broke into the house.” I summarized. It felt like the world had capsided to Kendall. She had never experienced such before.Damien arrived minutes later at the same scene. The practical responses came quickly: building management, a temporary security measure… But as night fell that very day, we all knew it - the truth. This was no longer a safe place to be.And it was my presence that made all the difference.The circle of safety I had been clinging to had just proven itself smaller and more fragile than I had allowed myself to believe.The broken lock remained in place for less than an hour before building management replaced it. That night, I caught myself listening out for every sound. Sleep, when it came at all, stayed shallow and easily broken. I couldn’t wait for morning, hoping to have a proper conversation of whatever had happened the night before and decide my way forward.Damien was early the

AdrianI learned that Evelyn had moved when the private report landed in my inbox late on a Thursday. The new address was clean, seemed short-term, and deliberately unmarked. The building had controlled access. The unit had been arranged through channels that did not immediately connect to her previous locations. It took very little additional work to confirm who had secured it.Damien Cross.The information settled with a cold finality that surprised me only in its completeness. I had already believed they were coordinated. The live-streamed fight, the lawsuit filed without apparent hesitation, the way every public blow against me seemed to coincide with her increasing reliance on him—all of it had formed a pattern. The move simply removed the last of my remaining doubt. She had left Kendall’s apartment and stepped directly into a space he controlled. In my mind the affair was no longer a suspicion. It was an operational fact.Any residual softness I had carried—any late-night rec

EvelynBy the time the judge entered the courtroom, I had already forgotten how many times I had checked the clock.The final hearing had taken weeks to reach, yet now that I was sitting inside that room with Damien beside me and our lawyer arranging the last of his papers, everything seemed to be moving too quickly. The courtroom was fuller than it had been during some of the earlier hearings, although no one spoke above a murmur, and the low conversations that did pass between lawyers stopped almost completely the moment the judge took his seat.I looked across the aisle and found Adrian already watching the front of the room, his expression composed, his suit perfectly arranged, one hand resting beside the stack of documents his lawyers had prepared, and for a second I wondered how a man could look so untouched by the chaos he had helped create. Then I saw the faint purple still lingering along his knuckles from the fight with Damien, and I remembered that appearances were all any