[Wow, these two do this every day? Now I’m dying to know what kind of guy her boyfriend is.]
[Probably a man who is obsessed with his woman. Like Hunter Fairchild.]
Among the flurry of comments under Jennifer’s post, one stood out. It was from an account named The Real H.F.
The Real H.F.: [This day was unforgettable.]
The comment section erupted:
[OMG, it’s him! This must be her boyfriend!]
[Seriously? This PDA is next level. So, we’ve been part of their show all along?]
Evelyn’s grip on the steering wheel tightened as she read the comments. There was no mistaking it—The Real H.F. was Hunter’s account.
Such a blatant, public display of affection, even though Evelyn had long given up on Hunter, seeing this still made her chest tighten painfully, her heart aching in spite of herself. Her phone buzzed suddenly. Hunter was calling.
“Hey, honey, you still up?”
“Yeah,” Evelyn said, doing her best to keep her tone neutral.
Hunter’s voice was soft, almost guilty. “I’m sorry, Evie. Things at work got crazy. I don’t think I can make it home tonight. Go sleep without me and stay warm. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”
Evelyn forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Coming straight from Jennifer’s bed and now calling to play the doting husband—Hunter really had mastered the art of deceit.
“Okay,” she replied flatly.
“Alright, goodnight, honey. Sleep well.”
After hanging up, Evelyn glanced briefly at the glow from the master bedroom window upstairs. Without another thought, she started her car and drove away.
The next morning, Evelyn knew something was wrong the moment she woke up. Her body felt heavy, her head was pounding and dizziness washed over her. She’d caught a cold. Her immune system had always been weak and the chill from the night before make it worse. She quickly got ready and went downstairs, only to bump into Hunter, who had just returned home.
He was dressed in a crisp new suit and his sharp eyes immediately zeroed in on her pale face. His brows furrowed and he rushed to her side.
“Evie,” he said, his voice filled with worry. “You don’t look good. Are you okay?”
Evelyn didn’t answer and brushed past him, heading for the door. Hunter followed her and before she could protest, he swept her up into his arms.
“This is my fault,” he said, his tone firm. “I should’ve stayed with you last night. We’re going to the hospital right now.”
At the hospital, Evelyn lay back on the bed, her eyes closed as the IV drip worked its way through her veins. Her body felt weak, her energy completely drained.
Hunter sat by her side, his gaze fixed on her. After a long silence, he asked softly, “Evie, are you mad at me?”
“For what?” she murmured.
He sighed, guilt etched into his features. “I’ve been so caught up with work, I haven’t been there for you. I promise I’ll stay with you until you’re better.”
And he did.
Hunter didn’t leave her side all day.
When her hand felt cold from the IV, he held it in his warm palms, his touch gentle and reassuring. He brought her seafood chowder from her favorite restaurant, feeding her spoonfuls with a tenderness that almost seemed genuine. He even shared funny little stories to distract her from the discomfort, keeping her entertained despite her exhaustion.
When the nurse came in to draw blood, Hunter stayed close, hovering protectively over Evelyn. “It’s okay, Evie. You don’t need to worry about a thing. I’m right here,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
He turned to the nurse, his expression serious. “Please be gentle. She’s had a rough night and I don’t want this to add to her discomfort.”
The nurse couldn’t help but smile, clearly charmed. “Mr. Fairchild, you really adore her, don’t you? Mrs. Fairchild’s one lucky woman.”
To outsiders, it seemed like Hunter cared deeply for her, like she was his entire world. If Evelyn hadn’t known about Jennifer or uncovered the truth about his betrayal, she might have been fooled. She might have still believed in his love, completely blind to the lies hiding behind his perfect façade.
