Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 221

Tricia had fired off several smug, thinly veiled threat texts and waited half an hour, but Charlotte still hadn’t replied. Even so, she was in high spirits—her goal was accomplished, after all.

Just then, her phone rang. Mrs. Fontaine was calling.

Tricia answered with a touch of impatience. “Didn’t I tell you not to contact me unless it was urgent?”

“Director Winthrop, you’ve ruined me!” Mrs. Fontaine’s voice was sharp and accusatory, stripped of all previous deference. “You said Mr. Howard wouldn’t care even if he found out I went after the Sterlings, remember? Look how that turned out! The Fontaines have cut me off, and now my husband wants a divorce! I must have been out of my mind to listen to your nonsense!”

Tricia’s expression froze as she realized something was wrong. “What are you talking about, Mrs. Fontaine? Where are you right now?”

“Where could I be? Mr. Howard confronted me just yesterday! I can’t stand living like this—always looking over my shoulder! Don’t contact me again. I’ve had enough of your delusions and self-importance. You’re nothing but bad luck!”

Mrs. Fontaine vented her fury, then hung up abruptly.

Tricia stood rooted to the spot, stunned and pale, as if she’d just seen a ghost.

The door to the hospital room swung open and Evander entered—calm, but his eyes were cold and dark.

“Evander… what brings you here?” Tricia forced a smile, trying to steady her nerves.

He glanced dispassionately at the phone she was trying to hide. “Who was that on the phone?”

She lowered her eyes, feigning casualness. “Just a friend, checking in after hearing I was in the hospital.” Looking up, she tried to steer the conversation, “Evander, I haven’t seen Hans in a while. I miss him. Once I’m discharged, I’d like to spend a few days with him.”

After all, Hans was still her last trump card. Evander adored that child—no matter what resentment he might hold against her, it would fade with time. He’d loved her so much once.

Evander’s gaze shifted to the bouquet on the nightstand. He idly ran a finger over the petals. “Did you send Charlotte any messages today?”

Tricia’s smile faltered; her grip tightened on her phone. “No… not at all, Evander. Why would you ask that?”

He pulled his hand away from her grasp.

She lost her balance and nearly slid off the bed.

He took out a handkerchief and wiped his hand where she’d touched him. “People say I always favored you, indulged you. They’re right—I owed you, so I gave you whatever you wanted. But you? You used me. Manipulated me. Tried to make me the villain who destroyed the Sterling family. Tricia, have you always been lying to me like this?”

Tears streamed down Tricia’s cheeks as she trembled uncontrollably. “Evander, it’s not—please—”

“The truth is right in front of us and you’re still lying!” he snapped.

With a sweep of his arm, he knocked the vase off the nightstand. It crashed to the floor, sending water and flowers scattering.

Tricia stared at the shattered glass, her heart seeming to stop.