Betrothed To An Alpha? I Don't Think So!
Chapter 52: Drink With Me

Chapter 52: Drink With Me

"I don’t know." Amber shrugged. "It’s just...sometimes you—actually, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it."

Their conversation went on for a while longer until Amber’s words trailed off, watching Evelyn who was scratching her index finger against the wooden table, absent-mindedly.

"Evelyn...?"

No response.

"Evelyn!"

Evelyn snapped her gaze over to her, a bit startled. "What?" she asked.

Amber creased her brows, now more than apprehensive. "Seriously, Evelyn, are you okay?" She was pleading with her gaze. "You don’t tell me anything, and I know you’re not fine. I can feel it."

"That is funny." Evelyn cackled, playing it off. "Why wouldn’t I be fine? I mean—"

"As much as you may want to deny it, I know your father’s death hurts you," Amber cut her off. "He was all you had after your mother died and now he’s gone too. Why do I feel like you’re blaming yourself for not talking to him a year before his death?"

"Amber—"

"I don’t even know where to begin, because that aside, you’re also dealing with this bullshit. Are you sure you’re fine," she implored, tone begging. "You’re always smiling, making it all seem like it’s fine and at this point, I can’t even tell when you’re really happy. Are you even happy?"

Evelyn stared at her.

"Amber, I am fine. And I didn’t come here to have this conversation." She rose to her feet, grabbing her bag. "I need to go."

"Evelyn—"

"I’m tired and I want some sleep. I’ll call you another time, alright?" She flashed her that big blooming smile and turned to leave. But then she paused, glancing over her shoulder. "Don’t worry about me, Amber. I’m okay. I promise."

Amber stared hard, unconvinced. Still, she didn’t voice it out. Instead, she watched her go, hands balled against the table.

Evelyn strolled down the road. She didn’t call a cab, nor did she even phone Enzo.

"Dad, stop!"

The sudden young voice halted her steps. She turned her head, arching a brow at the girl who looked to be in her early twenties sighing at her father who was saying one or two things to her.

"I just want you to be comfortable over there," the middle-aged man said. "You’re going to be all alone and I’m worried about you, sweetheart."

"I’m not a kid anymore," the girl responded. "When will you stop treating me like one? Look, Dad, I know you’re worried, but I promise you that I’ll be fine. And if anything goes wrong, I’ll call you, first thing."

The dad frowned. "You promise?"

"I promise."

A smile dragged across her face, widening as the father pulled her into a warm hug.

Evelyn blinked. She averted her gaze, continuing her walk down the road.

However, at the bus stop was where she came to a stop, leaning against the glass shelter. She stared into nothing while she waited for a bus.

"Was I...a terrible daughter...?" she mumbled to herself before she could think, smiling to herself softly right after. "Maybe..."

———

Zayne pulled open the door of the bedroom coming to a stop at Evelyn who stood unmoving. She was staring at the floor. How long had she been standing there?

"Evelyn?"

Her gaze snapped. And immediately her face shifted into her usual smile.

"What’s wrong with—"

She stepped forward, doing what he’d least expected from her. Hug—she was hugging him.

Why was she hugging him? Evelyn would never do that? Unless—

"Don’t tell me you’re sticking something against my back," he said.

She found his words funny, pulling back with a chuckle. "That’s for kids, Peacock. You know how unique I am with the things I do to you. It’s always what you least expect."

Her laughter bubbled free.

"Besides." She nudged his arm. "Can’t I hug my future husband now?"

Zayne furrowed his brows. Why did she sound like this, yet the little bit of her emotions he could feel felt...completely different?

She was as she normally always seemed with him. But something was wrong and it was picking him apart.

Mates could feel the others’ emotions a lot of the time. And although it was considered more prominent after a mating mark, it was still quite noticeable even without one.

Going after her, he snatched her arm, spinning her on her feet. "What’s going on?"

"What do you mean?" She blinked at him.

"Something is wrong with you."

Evelyn cackled softly, shaking her head. "Aww look at you. You’re going to be such a sweet husband, you know that?"

"Evelyn, this is not the time for—"

"Nothing is wrong with me, Zayne," she said, cutting him off. "I’m perfectly fine. I don’t know what you’re so worried about. I mean, why wouldn’t I be fine?"

"I don’t know, and that is why I need you to tell me."

"Well, there is nothing to tell." She shrugged, snatching her hand back. "I’m fine. And you’re just being a worrywart. Doesn’t suit you."

"Evelyn." Zayne bit out her name, watching her.

Evelyn sighed deeply, popping a few buttons of her shirt. She’d tossed her jacket aside on the sofa.

"If you don’t tell me—"

"Zayne." She spun on her heel, tilting her head with a soft smile. "Would you like to have a drink with me? I know you have whiskey in that wine cabinet of yours."

"No,"

"Why not?"

"Why do you want to?"

"Because I want to," she said, lips curling into a grin. "Besides, I could use a buddy. Come with me." She grabbed his hand, holding tight as she left the room, feet bare.

"Why are we in my office?" Zayne asked as she pushed the door open.

Evelyn responded, "You have a cabinet of it in here. Makes me wonder why you stocked it when you barely even touch it."

"Sit down in the chair," she pointed before he could even talk, making her way over to the cabinet.

He crinkled his brows at her. But regardless, he plopped down in his office chair, tipping his head to the side as he watched her struggle to reach the cabinet.

It amused him, earning a low chuckle from him.

She snapped her gaze over, clicking her tongue. "You should’ve been considerate enough not to build this so high up," she said as she pulled the ottoman over, climbing up. "I’m sure you knew you were eventually going to get a wife or something."

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