The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 866

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**Northridge City.**

Alexander was in his hospital room, an IV dripping fluid into his arm, when Nash rushed in.

“Mr. Davidson,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Your father went to find Ms. Crawford.”

A cold fury flashed in Alexander’s eyes. Without a word, he ripped the IV needle from his arm and stood up. Nash knew that in his condition, this kind of stress was dangerous, but he also knew there was no stopping him. He could only follow. By the time he got outside, Alexander’s car was already pulling away. Nash swore under his breath and sprinted to another car to follow.

Behind the wheel, Alexander’s face was pale, a fresh bruise already forming on his arm where the needle had been. He ignored it. He knew his father’s obsessive nature. Jake would do anything to find Heather, and Danielle’s strong will meant a confrontation was inevitable. She would be at a disadvantage.

He ignored his doctor’s orders and his body’s protests. All he could think about was getting to Nexus Prime and making sure Danielle was safe. The air in the car felt thick, and a dull ache started in his chest. His breathing grew shallow. He fumbled for his medication, shaking a few pills into his hand and swallowing them dry with a swig of water. The world outside was a blur. He knew he was in no condition to drive, but he couldn’t stop.

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After her confrontation with Jake, Danielle received a call from Nash explaining the situation. She was pacing her living room, her anxiety mounting with every unanswered call to Alexander’s phone.

Alexander sank onto the cushions, his mind a chaotic whirl. The lingering sting from the IV needle radiated up his arm, and the tightness in his chest came and went in waves. He wanted to rub his temples, but his limbs felt like lead.

“You rest here. I’ll go heat up some soup for you,” Danielle said softly. She could see how exhausted he was, his lips pale and chapped. He clearly hadn't been eating. She moved quietly toward the kitchen, not wanting to disturb him.

Alexander watched her go, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like they were back in their old life, before the divorce. No matter how late he came home, she would always leave a light on and have a warm meal waiting. A flicker of warmth spread through him, only to be extinguished by a fresh wave of guilt. He was the one who had ruined their family. He was the one who had made her suffer.

An overwhelming exhaustion washed over him, heavier than the physical pain and mental turmoil. He leaned back against the sofa, his eyelids growing heavy, and drifted into a deep sleep. Even in slumber, his brow was furrowed, his face a mask of fatigue.