Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 172

Evander watched her calmly, but there was a flicker of something more complicated in his eyes.

Tricia realized she’d let her emotions get the better of her. She released her grip on his arm and tried to explain herself. “That’s not what I meant, Evander. I’m just worried—”

“What exactly are you worried about, here in the Howard family?” he cut in, frowning.

Tricia faltered, unable to meet his gaze.

Linette glanced at Tricia with a look that seemed to see right through her. “Miss Winthrop, it’s already generous of the Howard family to let your child stay here for a while. Did you really expect the lady of the house and the young master to help you raise your son?”

After a pause, she added pointedly, “He’s not a Howard, after all.”

The words struck Tricia like a blow, draining all color from her face.

Linette then took Hans’s hand. The boy shrank back, clearly nervous, but when Evander placed a reassuring palm on his head, Hans relaxed and let Linette lead him away.

After they’d left, Tricia drew a shaky breath and forced a smile. “Evander, thank you for looking after Hans.”

Evander adjusted his suit jacket and gave the briefest nod.

…

For three whole days, Charlotte didn’t see Evander at all. It was obvious he was spending time with that mother and son.

That morning, she had a minor surgery scheduled and arrived at the hospital by seven, stopping at the nurses’ station to check a patient's CT scans.

Tricia emerged from her office, flipping through a chart. Spotting Charlotte, she deliberately crossed her path and spoke with a hint of provocation. “Hans is staying with Evander at the Howard estate now, Dr. Sterling. You don’t mind having a child around, do you?”

Charlotte glanced at her coolly. “You could move your whole family into the Howard house and I still wouldn’t mind.”

Tricia’s smile froze. She said nothing more.

Charlotte ignored her and gathered her files, heading off to surgery.

By the time the operation was finished, it was already noon. As she scrubbed the blood from her gloves, a wave of nausea hit her—something that never used to happen after surgery.

She froze, stuffing the test deep into her coat pocket.

The back window rolled down slowly, revealing Evander’s face half-shadowed, his eyes locked on hers. His gaze flicked past her, noting the pharmacy behind.

“Picking up medicine?” His tone was neutral, but his eyes were sharp.

Charlotte kept her face impassive and nodded. “My stomach’s been bothering me.”

His gaze felt like a scalpel, as if he could see straight through her.

She pushed her hands deeper into her pockets, fighting the urge to fidget. “I should get back to work.”

Evander’s lips curled in the faintest of smiles. “Professor Aldridge arrives tonight, just in time for the dinner meeting. You’ll come with me.”

“Alright,” Charlotte agreed.

He watched her walk away, thoughtful. After a long pause, he told the driver calmly, “Go to the pharmacy. Find out what she bought.”