Chapter 57: My Wife
"Wait. You do this on purpose, don’t you? So I’d be without any other option but to move out faster than planned. Am I right?"
His response? A laughter.
And not just a chuckle, an actual, rich laugh that made the air around him shift. Evelyn froze. Her heart skipped, stuttered, then soared as if it had grown wings.
This was the first time she had ever seen him laugh.
"You’re overthinking again, Evelyn." He shook his head, still looking casual. Then, in that unshakable, matter-of-fact tone of his, he continued, "Do you see a few people outside?"
She glanced toward the windows. Sure enough, she saw silhouettes lingering at the edges of the boardwalk, too stiff, too watchful, definitely not tourists.
"They’re my people," Axel explained smoothly. "No one will be able to take a picture of us. So, relax. No need to worry."
Evelyn feels a sense of relief.
But of course, he wasn’t finished.
His lips curved into that dangerous smirk, as if he was about to ruin her life with just one sentence.
"But, if you want us to keep sitting here for much longer, I can’t guarantee someone won’t break through my people."
Her relief crumbled so fast.
"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath. She pushed back her chair and stood. "Axel, let’s go inside. Meet Aunty Martha first before we head home."
Inside, Evelyn’s mind was worried: half scolding herself for letting his laugh rattle her, half panicking that Aunty Martha would faint when she realized Axel Knight was actually in her café.
...
Walking toward Martha’s house, Evelyn suddenly stopped, causing Axel, who was trailing her with his usual calm stride, to nearly collide with her back.
His brows lifted in mild surprise.
"What’s with the sudden stop?" he asked, his deep voice steady, as if he already expected one of her lectures.
Evelyn inhaled deeply before turning to face him.
"Axel, listen to me carefully. Martha is like my own family. She’s like my flesh and blood family, even when we’re not. Moreover, Oliver loves her like his own grandmother. So... Please drop your stiff, cold, arrogant expression. Just this once. Don’t you dare scare her."
For a man who rarely showed more than a smirk or a glare, Axel’s forehead creased with the faintest frown.
"I see. Alright, I will treat her as you expect me to." His tone was calm, but there was something like amusement flickering in his eyes. "Any other special requests I need to know?"
Evelyn frowned, pretending to think, but really just stalling to keep her nerves from overwhelming her.
"No, that is all. We won’t be here long.. I will excuse us as quickly as possible..." She can’t finish her words when a delighted shout could be heard from Martha’s house.
"Daddy! Daddy!" Oliver’s cute little voice rang from the doorway.
Evelyn’s gaze suddenly changed, and she became speechless. She hadn’t expected her son to sense Axel’s arrival so quickly.
"Hi, Buddy." Axel’s entire face softened when he saw Oliver. He stepped past Evelyn, bent down, and swept his son into his arms with ease. "How are you? Did you behave with Mommy while I was away?"
Oliver’s laugh rang out. It sounds adorable.
"Yay, I’m so happy Daddy’s back! Of course, I behaved. I always help Mommy. Don’t worry, Dad... I was guarding Mommy for you." He said proudly.
Evelyn felt her knees wobble as she listened to Oliver’s words. She worried he would expose her again about her longing for Axel.
Axel laughed, hearing his son’s words spill out of him, genuine and unrestrained.
But then, as quickly as it had come, Axel’s laughter faded when his gaze shifted to Martha.
Martha stood at the doorway, her expression calm but curious, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she were making sure her eyes didn’t betray her whether Axel Knight was really standing in front of her house.
Axel adjusted Oliver in his arms and stepped forward, nodding politely.
"You must be Aunt Martha?" He asked.
Martha’s eyes widened at his politeness.
"Oh, Axel... yes, that’s me." Martha’s lips curved into a smile, warmer now. She had expected arrogance, distance, maybe even disdain. Instead, here he was charming and respectful.
"Nice to meet you, Aunty Martha." Axel extended his free hand for a handshake, holding Oliver effortlessly. His tone was steady but polite, almost formal. "Thank you for taking care of Oliver and my wife for me."
Evelyn was stunned when she heard him say, "My wife!" Her cheeks heated so fast she was certain Martha could see the flush spreading across her skin now.
Her heart betrayed her, fluttering wildly as though it had been waiting years to hear those words.
Meanwhile, Axel continued speaking to Martha, his voice calm and respectful, quite different from how he usually talks to others.
Seeing this different side of Axel was enough to stir something in Evelyn’s heart.
However, she shook her head, trying to dismiss anything about Axel from her mind.
She distracted herself, walked inside the house, gathered her bags, and Oliver’s toys.
Not long after, Axel gently but firmly excused them.
Martha, perhaps sensing Evelyn’s fluster or Axel’s impatience, didn’t insist they stay for tea. She simply hugged Oliver tight, squeezed Evelyn’s hand, and nodded with a meaningful smile that made Evelyn’s stomach sink.
’Oh great! Aunty must be going to tease me about that "my wife" line forever.’ she thought with a smile, quietly amused, as she walked alongside Axel toward the parking area.
...
Evelyn was surprised that Axel led her toward her car, and he drove himself. She thought he would ask Dylan to drive for them.
Axel casually placed Oliver in his car seat. She was about to sit next to Oliver, but Axel opened the car door for her.
She was stunned but didn’t refuse. Quickly, she got in the car, worried someone might see them.
Soon,
The car drove smoothly as it glided down the coastal road, the windows open just enough for the salty breeze to slip in.
Evelyn sat stiffly in the passenger seat, her eyes locked on the horizon, trying her hardest not to look at the man driving beside her.
Axel’s hand rested easily on the wheel, his profile sharp against the sunlight.
Too sharp. Too distracting.
Her heart kept reminding her of how casually he had called her "my wife" back at Martha’s house.
The words still echoed in her chest, tugging at places she wasn’t ready to admit existed.
She played with the strap of her handbag, desperate for a distraction.
And then came the distraction, in the form of a very talkative three-year-old in the back seat.
"Daddy," Oliver called, leaning forward, "Mommy said she misses you."