Chapter 165

"It's pointless," Evelyn murmured under her breath, her voice barely audible.

Julian inhaled sharply. The devastation in her eyes shattered him completely.

"Evelyn, why don't you give me a chance?" he pleaded.

Her delicate brows knitted together.

"Try accepting me," Julian continued desperately. "I may not be perfect, but I'll become the man you deserve!"

At least he was better than that bastard Nathan, Julian thought bitterly.

"Julian, I'm exhausted. Please don't make this harder." The sorrow in Evelyn's gaze cut deeper than any blade.

"Evelyn—" His breath caught. Pity flooded his heart.

"It's late. I need to rest. You should leave."

She pushed past him, moving toward the bedroom with leaden steps.

"Are you and Sebastian really together?" Julian demanded. "What's between you two? Is this real, or just revenge against Nathan?"

Evelyn froze. Her fists clenched. "That's none of your concern."

"There's no sign of Sebastian living here. If he's your boyfriend, where are his shoes? His belongings? How can there be zero trace of him in your space?"

"I said it's none of your business. Stop worrying about things that don't involve you."

"Evelyn! Don't destroy yourself like this." Julian's voice cracked with desperation, bitterness coating his throat.

Without another word, Evelyn disappeared into the bedroom.

Meanwhile, Nathan drove back to Cliffside Manor in a daze. The normally forty-minute journey took him two hours.

A migraine blurred his vision while torrential rain obscured the road. He nearly crashed twice before reaching home.

Stumbling into the study, he knocked over teacups and documents searching for his medication. Finding the bottle at last, he dry-swallowed double the dosage.

The pain refused to subside.

"Nathan, if I'd known how vile you were, I never would've married you!"

Evelyn's furious words echoed in his skull. The towering man curled into himself as agony ripped through his skull, cold sweat dripping from his brow.

Agnes heard the commotion and rushed in.

"Young Master!" Her face paled at the sight. "Another migraine?"

"Nathan...Evelyn..." he mumbled incoherently.

"Hold on! I'll call the doctor immediately!"

As Agnes turned to leave, her phone rang.

An unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Agnes, it's me." A familiar gentle voice answered.

"Young Madam? Is that really you?" Agnes clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Yes, it's Evelyn."

"Oh thank heavens! You must help! The Young Master's migraine—he's completely delirious! He hasn't had attacks this bad since you left!"

"Listen carefully," Evelyn said calmly. "In my bedroom, there's a silver case in the nightstand drawer with acupuncture needles I used to treat Nathan. Beneath it is a notebook detailing the treatment. You studied acupuncture, yes?"

"Yes! I remember!"

"Nathan injured his back tonight—a tree branch fell on him. There's bruise ointment in that same drawer. Apply it tonight. If it worsens, take him to the hospital."

"Of course, Young Madam." Agnes wiped her tears, heart aching.

How could the Young Master let such a wonderful woman slip away?

"One last thing." Evelyn's voice softened. "Don't tell Nathan about this call."