Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 101

What Charlotte had once yearned for with every fiber of her being was this exact moment: standing together with him, in front of everyone, as a real couple—intimate, not strangers bound only by marriage on paper.

Everything she had wished for over the years had come true in just a matter of weeks.

And ironically, it all happened right as she was ready to let go.

Was this the universe's way of pitying the last six years she'd given, or did Evander feel guilty about what happened with Hiram? Had he finally decided to treat her a little better?

Charlotte's nose prickled as emotion threatened to spill over, but she forced herself to swallow it back down.

"Mr. Howard, your girlfriend looks absolutely stunning in this dress! She could be a movie star—she's gorgeous!" the sales assistant gushed, unable to hold back her praise.

"She's not my girlfriend—"

"I'm just Mr. Howard's assistant," Charlotte cut in, almost at the same time.

Natalie blinked, caught off guard.

Their eyes met for a split second before Charlotte quickly looked away, polite and distant. "Thank you, Mr. Howard, for coming with me to pick out clothes. As for the dress, you can deduct the cost from my paycheck. I'll go get changed now."

She didn't wait for Evander's reply before turning and slipping into the fitting room.

But the moment she pulled the curtain shut, it slid aside unexpectedly. Evander stepped in, catching her completely off guard.

She stared at him, startled, lowering her voice. "Evander, you—"

He closed the space between them, his arms caging her in, lips brushing her ear as he spoke low and quietly. "What, do you want everyone outside to hear you?"

She shivered, silent.

"This dress suits you," he murmured, noticing her trembling and holding her tighter. In the narrow space, his heartbeat and his body heat seemed dangerously intoxicating.

Evander was rarely out of control. He was always composed—except for that one night, after he'd been drugged, when he'd truly let himself go. Otherwise, he never lost his grip.

Charlotte could feel how close he was; close enough that their bodies pressed together, close enough that if she turned her head, their breaths would tangle.

Just as his lips were about to meet hers, his phone rang, shattering the charged silence.

Charlotte felt the tension break and let out a breath, her shoulders finally relaxing.

Evander took out his phone and answered. "Hello?"

"Evander, your father's back already. When are you two coming home?" Miranda's voice came through the line.

"We'll be home soon," he replied, straightening up.

The atmosphere was warm and harmonious.

Jensen and his wife toasted Jacques, a clear sign—aside from the family matriarch—of just how important Jacques, the eldest son, was to the Howards.

Charlotte quietly picked at the food in front of her, eating a few bites and keeping out of the conversation.

Now and then, she stole glances at father and son.

Truthfully, in the six years since she'd married into the Howard family, she'd only met her father-in-law four times.

The first was on her wedding day with Evander.

The second and third were during the New Year celebrations in the following two years.

And today was the fourth.

She couldn't help but notice that, beyond their resemblance, both father and son shared the same serious, unsmiling expression.

And unless she was imagining things, there seemed to be a subtle distance between her father-in-law and mother-in-law as well.

Suddenly, Aunt Ilse spoke up, breaking the lull. "Evander, you're not getting any younger. You and Lottie have been married for years—how come there's still no news of a baby?"