Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 10

Charlotte pressed her lips together. If she remembered correctly, Evander knew her relationship with the Sterling family had always been strained.

She vividly recalled one particular year when Grandma Rosemary celebrated her birthday. Both of her parents attended, and her father drank far too much. He ended up saying things he shouldn't have.

She could still remember the look on the Howards' faces that night.

Trying to diffuse the situation, Charlotte stepped forward to calm her father, only for him to shove her aside.

She fell, shattering a wine glass, and slivers of glass sliced open her palm.

At the time, she hadn't blamed her father. He was drunk, after all—maybe it was just an accident.

But what she couldn't forgive was Evander, standing there watching, cold and detached.

Back then, he hadn't offered her a single word of comfort.

And now…

Now he cared to ask?

Charlotte's gaze grew distant. "Is there even a point in asking?"

He gave a short, derisive laugh. "Pathetic."

Charlotte's fingers clenched tight, her face draining of color.

"You're Mrs. Howard, and you let someone hit you? What else would you call it?"

Evander drained his glass in one swallow.

His words almost sounded like the admonition of a real husband—as if he was saying that, as his wife, she shouldn't have to endure such humiliation.

But what did he know?

Every bit of pain she felt—he was the one who brought it upon her.

Evander rose slowly and stopped in front of her. "I'm back. Did you want to talk about something tonight?"

Charlotte's mind went momentarily blank.

Was he home early tonight because of that phone call?

Suppressing the strange feeling stirring in her chest, she was silent for several seconds. "Hiram is being held at the police station. I'd like you to help find him a legal team."

She knew Evander cared about his reputation and wouldn't stick his neck out for something like this. So she didn't ask him to pull strings, just to get Hiram a lawyer—a more measured request.

She didn't think that was asking too much.

Evander studied her. "You're asking me for help?"

"Yes." Afraid he'd refuse outright, Charlotte quickly added, "If you help me this one last time, I'll agree to any condition—including a divorce."

Evander's eyes darkened almost imperceptibly.

…

When Evander arrived, Hans had already taken his medicine and was sleeping peacefully, his small hand wrapped tightly around Evander's fingers.

Tricia walked in carrying a bowl of soup. "Evander, I'm so sorry for making you come over so late. Hans really likes you. Why don't you stay tonight?"

She hoped his affection for the boy would make him stay.

Evander made sure Hans was sound asleep, then gently withdrew his hand and looked at Tricia. "I'll hire a nanny for you and Hans. It'll make things easier."

Tricia's face fell. "Evander, that's not what I meant…"

He stood, his tone cool and measured. "You're a single mother. Me coming by so often isn't appropriate. Hans is better now—get some rest."

He barely paused as he left.

Tricia gripped the soup bowl, her expression turning sour as she glared at the child in bed. "Useless little brat!"

She slammed the door behind her.

The little boy in bed hadn't really been asleep. He opened his eyes, red-rimmed and glistening with tears, curling up tightly beneath the covers.

He'd done exactly what his mother asked—taken a cold bath to make himself sick, all in the hope that Mr. Howard would stay.

So why wasn't Mom happy with him?