The Day Our Promise Breaks (Charles and Evelyn) novel Chapter 595

Evelyn was clearly in a slump.

She walked out of the hospital.

Brooks was nowhere to be seen, and there was no way Evelyn was getting into Charles’s car alone with him.

She had just pulled out her phone to call a ride when a big hand closed over hers, taking her phone away. Before anyone could even accept her ride request, he hit cancel—calmly, like it was his right.

“I’ll drive you home,” Charles said, holding her hand tightly.

“I don’t need you to,” Evelyn replied, trying to yank her hand away.

But this time, Charles wouldn’t let go, and she couldn’t break free.

“I’ll drive you,” he repeated, his voice low as he looked down at her, seeing the frustration in her eyes.

Ever since he’d found out about her pregnancy—ever since he believed fate was giving him another shot—Charles had gotten a whole lot bossier.

Mrs. Robinson was still upstairs.

Evelyn really didn’t want to create a scene with Charles out front, worried that someone connected to Mrs. Robinson, or a nurse or a doctor, might see them and gossip would get back to her. If Mrs. Robinson got upset again, Evelyn knew she’d never be able to face Brooks.

“Let go. I’ll get in the car myself,” Evelyn said, her voice cold.

Only then did Charles finally let her go.

He opened the front passenger door for her.

Evelyn had no interest in sitting up front next to him, so she turned to open the back door instead.

But Charles slid an arm around her waist and gently pulled her back.

Evelyn’s lips pressed into a hard line. Annoyed, she pried his hand off her waist, threw it aside, and climbed into the car, stiff and silent.

As she got in, Charles reached up to shield her head from bumping, then softly closed the door behind her.

“If you’re not feeling well, let me know,” he said gently after getting in himself, glancing over at Evelyn, whose face was turned toward the window, eyes shut tight.

Evelyn didn’t answer.

Charles’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, the tension in his knuckles obvious, but after a moment, he made himself relax.

He started the car and headed toward her place.

Traffic was horrendous.

Evelyn usually didn’t get carsick, but maybe it was the pregnancy—halfway home, her stomach started churning.

She leaned her head against the window, her hair hiding half her face, so Charles didn’t notice at first.

It wasn’t until they hit another endless red light—waiting through two cycles before the cars in front finally moved—that he glanced over and saw how pale she was.

Being stuck in traffic when you’re sick is the worst.

As soon as the light turned green, the car in front slowed down again. Charles eased on the brakes, trying to keep things as steady as possible for her, but the car still rocked a little.

Evelyn’s face turned even whiter, her stomach twisting more painfully.

“Eve, what’s wrong?” Charles asked, instantly pulling over to the curb.

The moment they stopped, he leaned over and wrapped his arms around her, worry all over his face as he saw how colorless her lips were.

Evelyn felt so awful she couldn’t even push him away.

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