Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 122

Evander remained unmoved. Even after Charlotte uttered, “We’re not that close,” he simply took another unhurried sip of his wine, his expression untouched by drama.

Around them, the other guests at the gala were busy speculating about the nature of their relationship, but their whispered theories led nowhere.

Just as Charlotte was about to slip away, Jonathan set his glass down and stepped out from the crowd. “Charlotte, you really are a bit careless. But don’t worry—if Mr. Howard doesn’t mind, I’ll cover the cost of your dress.”

Charlotte looked at him in surprise.

Evander dabbed at a spot on his jacket, a breezy smile playing at his lips. “Oh? Mr. Pembroke, are you really doing this for her?”

Jonathan’s tone was easy, unhurried. “Why do you say that, Mr. Howard? Charlotte and I go way back—it’s only natural for me to help out an old friend, isn’t it?”

He gave his wine a gentle swirl. “And what if I don’t feel like accepting your offer?”

Jonathan poured himself another drink, as if the conversation were nothing but idle banter. “You seem awfully determined, Mr. Howard. Could it be you’ve taken a liking to Charlotte yourself?”

Charlotte watched the exchange in silence.

Evander let out a quiet laugh, hard to tell if he was amused or mocking. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”

Charlotte’s expression faltered for a split second before she looked away, her face unreadable.

Jonathan feigned sudden understanding. “Ah, so it’s not like that. Makes sense, considering the rumors. I heard Mr. Howard’s mysterious girlfriend is the chief of medicine at Metropolitan General. Everyone’s just waiting to see when the news will go public.”

“Wait, Howard has a girlfriend? Is that true?”

“I heard some gossip—his ex came back from abroad, probably her.”

“He’s always been loyal, hasn’t he?”

The chatter swelled around them, every word about how devoted Evander was to his ex finding its way, uninvited, into Charlotte’s ears—no matter how much she wished she could block it all out.

Evander offered no explanation. His gaze lingered on Charlotte for an extra beat before he set his glass down with a hint of meaning. “If there’s good news, I’ll be sure to let everyone know.”

Other guests congratulated him in advance.

Charlotte slipped away from the crowd. Wesley noticed and followed, catching up with her in the hallway. “Are you alright?”

Charlotte could not have looked more uncomfortable. “Mr. Rayburn, Jonathan, um… I need to use the restroom.”

She set her half-finished dessert on the table and slipped away, eager for a breath of fresh air.

As she passed the lounge near the ballroom, a hand shot out and caught her arm, pulling her inside. Before she could react, a man spun her around and pinned her gently against the door. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his voice low and teasing, breath brushing the nape of her neck. “You’re really in that much of a hurry to find another man?”

Charlotte tensed, her brow furrowing. “What does it matter to you if I am, Mr. Howard?”

“Oh, I see—you want to smear the family name again, is that it?”

She didn’t wait for Evander’s reply. “We’re in a secret marriage. Aside from the few who are close to your family, who here would even guess?”

“Go on,” Evander murmured, his lips and nose tracing her skin, voice dark and rough. “Maybe I’ll believe you.”

Charlotte jabbed her elbow back to push him away. “Evander, are you out of your mind?”

He gave her no chance to escape. His hands cupped her cheeks and, without warning, he kissed her—breaking past her resistance, his lips tasting of rich, heady wine.