Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 133

The moment Hans tumbled down the stairs, everyone on the street and inside the café froze in shock. “A child—! A child just fell!”

As bystanders rushed to call an ambulance and check on the boy, Tricia came tearing out of the café like a woman possessed. “My son!” she screamed.

She pushed through the crowd and gathered Hans into her arms, her sobs raw and desperate. “It’s my fault—I couldn’t protect you. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry!”

Xavier and Rachel came rushing down behind her, only to be met by Tricia’s wild, tear-filled eyes and accusatory finger. “It was them! They pushed my son down the stairs!”

“What kind of people could do something so cruel to a child?” someone in the crowd shouted.

“They’re monsters, that’s what they are!”

Angry voices swelled all around them. Xavier, red-faced and frantic, tried to defend himself. “That’s a lie! She’s the one who pushed her own child!”

“That’s right! We had nothing to do with it—she did it herself.” Rachel’s voice trembled as she tried to explain.

But with the tragedy already unfolding, no other witnesses upstairs, and a child lying injured on the ground, nobody could say for sure who was telling the truth.

Tricia held Hans to her chest, her mind fraying at the edges. “He’s my son! Why would I ever hurt him? I know you want me gone—for your daughter’s sake. Fine, I’ll leave. But Hans is innocent!”

“Hans, please, baby, you have to be okay! Where’s the ambulance? Where is it?” Her frantic cries and Hans’s weak sobs tugged at the hearts of those watching—how could a mother not love her child?

Suddenly, all the outrage turned on the Sterlings. Someone hurled a half-empty cup of coffee at Xavier and Rachel.

Rachel shielded Xavier, taking the brunt of it—the hot liquid splattered across her clothes.

Seeing his wife’s distress and hearing the venom in the crowd’s jeers, Xavier tried to say something. But a sharp pain seized his chest, his breath caught, and his ears filled with a ringing noise. He clutched his chest, struggling for air.

Rachel, ignoring her own soaked clothes, grabbed his arm. “Xavier! Stay with me!”

That was when Evander arrived, having raced over the moment he got the call. The scene was chaos: strangers clustered in panic, Tricia sobbing over Hans, Rachel on the ground with Xavier in her lap.

“Evander!” Tricia wailed, spotting him. “Hans—he’s not going to make it!”

Evander’s gaze darted to the boy in her arms. “What happened?”

“They pushed Hans down the stairs—it’s my fault too, I never should have brought him here!” Tricia sobbed, her grief palpable.

He nodded. “Take the boy first.”

Rachel’s last hope shattered.

The medics lifted Hans away. Tricia, afraid to be left behind, clung to Evander. “Come with us, please. I don’t want to go alone. The next ambulance will be here soon, right?”

Evander agreed, following her.

As the ambulance sped away, Rachel cradled her husband, watching helplessly as his breathing grew more labored, his pupils unfocused. She pleaded with the crowd for help.

No one stepped forward. Some even drifted away.

Until finally, Xavier lay utterly still in her arms.

“Xavier! Xavier!” Rachel’s anguished cries echoed down the street.

On that day, her whole world collapsed.