Soren''s voice was hoarse and subdued, tinged with an unfamiliar note of uncertainty that waspletely at odds with his usual arrogant confidence.


    Evangeline paused. She could count on one hand the number of times Soren had ever spoken to her in that tone. He never cared about her feelings, so why would he care if she was angry? It seemed being with Poppy had changed him more than she thought. Still, she couldn''t figure out why he was asking her this now.


    The truth was, she *was* annoyed. Being woken up in the middle of the night for something so trivial would irritate anyone. But she had no desire to waste her time arguing about it.


    "Let''s just forget it this time," she said wearily. "But I hope it doesn''t happen again."


    She didn''t expect him to actually listen, but to her surprise, he replied with a quiet, "Okay."


    Then he added, "Evangeline, I''ll wait for you toe back."


    His words confused her. Come back? Back where? Before she could ask, Theo approached her, clearly wanting to talk. She was about to hang up, but Soren beat her to it.


    Shrugging it off, she put her phone away.


    After ending the call, Soren summoned Gregory and told him to drive him to Evangeline''s apartment. Gregory, who had heard Soren was sick, was initially confused, but then he put the pieces together. Mr. Fawkes was ying the sympathy card to win back Miss Whitmore.


    "Mr. Fawkes, perhaps I should take you to the hospital first? You don''t look well," Gregory suggested, genuinely concerned. Soren''s face was ashen, his lips were pale, and a sheen of cold sweat covered his forehead. He''d never seen his boss look so vulnerable.


    Soren shook his head. "No. Take me to Evangeline." For some reason, he felt an overwhelming urge to see her, a sharp pang of regret for having stood her up. He rarely regretted his decisions, but this time was different.


    "Should I let Miss Whitmore know you''reing?" Gregory asked, reaching for his phone.


    On impulse, Soren stopped him. "No. I''ll wait for her."


    Gregory drove Soren to the apartment building, helped him upstairs, and settled him into bed. He felt uneasy leaving him like this, but Soren insisted, and Gregory had no choice but to leave.


    The apartment was quiet, filled with the small, personal touches that were unmistakably Evangeline''s. Lying in her bed, surrounded by her scent on the pillows, Soren felt a strange sense of peace, as if he had been transported back to a time when they were still together.


    The fever made his thoughts jumble and swirl. Memories surfaced, sharp and vivid. He remembered the day Evangeline was cast out by the Whitmore family. He had been driving by and had almost kept going, but some soft impulse had made him stop. He''d barely said two words before she copsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrobly. That was when he learned the truth about her rtionship with the Whitmores. His feelings for her had always beenplicated, but hearing her story, he had felt a surprising pang of sympathy. She was miserable that night, so on a whim, he arranged for a private fireworks disy to cheer her up. He remembered herughing and crying at the same time, clinging to him.


    He had said something to her then. It was a long time ago, and Soren wasn''t one


    to remember such trivial details. But now, with unsettling rity, the words came back to him.


    He had said, *"Evangeline, even though I can''t stand you, we''re married now. You''re my wife. I''ll try to love you."


    "*