Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 157

Charlotte pulled her gaze away, pretending not to see him as she brushed past.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and, in a swift motion, caught her wrist. She stumbled from the sudden pull, barely regaining her balance before she would have fallen into his arms. “So, we’re not even saying hello at home anymore?” he asked, his voice edged with annoyance.

Charlotte froze for a few seconds, her brows knitting together. “Mr. Howard, you can’t possibly be this bored, can you?”

She remembered how, in the past, she’d practically leapt at every chance to talk to Evander—always eager for a word, a glance. Had he ever cared? Not once.

He really was a strange man. Back then, he barely acknowledged her, but now that she’d finally given up, he couldn’t seem to leave her alone.

“The results from upstairs are back,” Evander said, his gaze lingering on her cool expression, a subtle crease forming between his brows. His tone softened. “Charlotte, I know you have issues with Tricia, but let’s end it here. If you don’t want her around, I’ll ask the director to transfer her to internal medicine.”

That was the biggest compromise he could offer.

Charlotte felt a sudden ache in her chest, a bitterness she couldn’t swallow. “So, in the end, you really do go to great lengths for Tricia.”

Evander’s eyes narrowed.

“You said you wouldn’t interfere with the investigation, but look—she walked away completely untouched.”

“Charlotte.” He fixed her with an unwavering stare. “I didn’t interfere. What makes you so sure it was her?”

She met his gaze, her eyes rimmed red but smiling coldly. “Ever since she started plotting against me over and over. Evander, you’ve always believed her, never me. Can you swear she knew nothing about the night I was almost assaulted? That was an important event—are we really supposed to believe it was just a simple mix-up with the room number?”

“And when she fell down the stairs—security footage cleared me, but you still saw her as the victim.”

His expression darkened; he said nothing.

Charlotte’s smile faded, her face now blank. “Anyone with eyes can see a rookie wouldn’t dare tamper with the anesthesia. Who knows if the investigation’s results are even the truth?”

“But even if it was her, you’d still protect her, wouldn’t you?”

She wrenched her arm free from his grasp and walked away without looking back.

Evander stood by the stone fountain, watching her leave, his face unreadably calm.

…

Two days later.

Charlotte accompanied Rachel to Vandermere Private Hospital to visit Hiram. In the main lobby, they ran into Wesley and Julian.

“Mr. Rayburn.” She nodded politely.

Wesley smiled and returned the greeting, his gaze settling on Rachel. “Is this your mother?”

Charlotte nodded, then turned to introduce them. “Mom, this is Mr. Rayburn. The people taking care of Hiram in the ward are from his team.”

Charlotte fetched hot water, mixing it with cold in a basin until it was just right, then soaked a towel, wrung it out, and handed it to her mother.

Rachel didn’t take it.

“Mom?” Charlotte prompted.

Rachel snapped out of her daze and managed a smile, finally accepting the towel to wipe Hiram down.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” Charlotte sat across from her, watching closely. “You’ve been distracted ever since we arrived.”

“It’s… it’s nothing.” Rachel avoided her eyes. “I just didn’t expect you all to know each other, that’s all.”

Rachel hesitated, unsure how to begin. Charlotte had already met that lady, after all.

She wanted to ask Charlotte how she felt—what she would think if…

If that woman truly was her birth mother, wouldn’t it be wonderful for them to be reunited?

But at the same time, she was afraid.

Afraid that if Charlotte reunited with her birth mother, she would leave her and Hiram behind.