The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 780

A few brittle leaves drifted down from the tall trees as the night breeze swept through the neighborhood, landing softly on Danielle’s shoulder.

She stood beneath the streetlamp at the entrance to her apartment building, listening quietly, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her coat.

Danielle had expected Rebecca to plead on Alexander’s behalf—maybe even invoke their shared history, urging her to give him another chance. But the words that came from Rebecca’s mouth caught her completely off guard.

“If you truly can,” Danielle said quietly, “then I’m willing. I only hope he can go back to being himself. Give him back the Alexander he used to be.”

“We don’t owe each other anything anymore, and he shouldn’t have to worry about me or about Niki.”

Rebecca looked at Danielle’s calm profile and, for a moment, felt this woman was colder than anyone she’d ever known.

“Do you even know why—” Danielle started, but Rebecca cut her off with a dry laugh.

Leaning against the railing, Rebecca idly traced circles with her fingers, a weary resignation in her eyes. “I know.”

“All those things he keeps bottled up? He won’t tell you, and I’m not about to betray his trust.”

She hesitated, her tone softening with the earnestness of a doctor. “I’ve been his closest friend for years—and his therapist.”

“You haven’t seen him these last two years. He can’t sleep until dawn. When he gets emotional, his hands shake so badly he has to take deep breaths just to sign a contract.”

“I hate seeing him waste away like this. So please, don’t string him along. Giving him hope and then crushing it is crueler than just saying no.”

“String him along?” Danielle let out a short, bitter laugh.

She knew the hurt Danielle carried. Yet seeing the wreck Alexander had become, she couldn’t help but want to defend him.

“There’s no point digging up the past,” Rebecca said, her voice tense as she stepped forward. “I’m not here to argue about right and wrong. I just want an answer—do you want my help or not? Do you want me to make sure he stops interfering with your and Niki’s life for good?”

Danielle stayed silent for a long time, long enough for the night wind to numb her cheeks.

She remembered Rebecca’s words about “pain in clarity,” remembered the red in Alexander’s eyes as he waited outside the restaurant earlier.

She knew this time Alexander was sincere. But she couldn’t risk it—couldn’t risk softening, only to see history repeat itself. She didn’t want Niki to hope again, only to be disappointed.

“If you really can do it, then yes,” Danielle finally replied, her voice as light as a breeze. “I just hope he can be himself again. Give him back the Alexander who could focus on his own life, unburdened by all of this.”