Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 138

The hatred burning in her eyes made Evander’s chest feel as if it were stuffed with wet wool—heavy, suffocating.

For several tense minutes, neither spoke. At last, he loosened his grip on her wrist and said quietly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know the ambulance would be late.”

He, who always carried himself with such pride, was apologizing—explaining himself. But it was all too late.

Charlotte’s eyes were rimmed red; a metallic taste rose in her throat, and she let out a bitter laugh. “Chest pain and strokes get priority in emergencies. You really didn’t know that?”

“A kid falls from the second floor—over six feet up—and you think he can afford to wait even a few minutes for an ambulance? Did we really have to fight for time with a heart attack patient? Those few minutes were his only shot. And you just stole them from us.”

She was trembling uncontrollably, breath coming in short gasps. The room spun, black spots dancing at the edge of her vision; it felt like she might faint at any moment.

Evander’s heart clenched. He pulled her into his arms. “Charlotte—!”

“Get away from me!” She shoved him back, and in the same instant, consciousness slipped away. She collapsed to the floor, and the last thing she heard was his desperate voice calling her name.

It was nearly five in the morning at the end of July, and dawn had begun to seep through the windows.

When Charlotte opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was the IV drip hanging by the bed. The familiar decor and the sharp tang of disinfectant told her she was in the Howard family’s private hospital.

“You’re awake.”

His voice was low and rough.

She turned her head. Evander was sitting on the sofa by the window, legs crossed, a magazine in his lap. His suit jacket hung over the back of the chair; he looked as though he hadn’t slept all night, exhaustion etched into his features.

Once upon a time, he would have watched over her like this, and she would have been deeply moved. But now, it meant nothing.

Charlotte tried to sit up. Evander’s brow furrowed, and he tossed the magazine aside, reaching out to gently push her back down. He stood over her, looking down. “You’re exhausted and upset. You need to rest.”

She hadn’t slept properly since Xavier died. By the time she’d made it back to Tranquility Manor, she’d felt on the verge of collapse.

Her tone was sharp. “I just need to use the bathroom, is that okay?”

He relented a little, reaching for the IV pole. Charlotte pushed his hand away. “I don’t need your help.”

She unhooked the IV herself and walked to the bathroom.

When Rachel heard her daughter was in the hospital, she rushed over. Seeing that Charlotte was alright—just worn out—Rachel finally relaxed.

“You nearly scared me to death. All I have left now is you and your brother. If anything happened to you—”

“Mom, it won’t. I promise.” Charlotte squeezed her mother’s arm, forcing a smile. “I take good care of myself.”

Rachel smiled, her expression softening. She patted Charlotte’s hand as she stood up. “I’ll go buy you some breakfast.”

Watching her mother’s retreating back, Charlotte felt a storm of emotions. It was the first time she’d ever truly felt her mother’s concern and love—even if that love only surfaced after losing her husband and with her son still unconscious.

Charlotte spent two days in the hospital, then was discharged on the third.

After settling the paperwork, she picked up her phone and called her lawyer.

He answered almost immediately. “Mrs. Howard?”

“Send the divorce papers to Evander. Today.”