Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 253

Charlotte let out a laugh, utterly unfazed. “Funny—when I was the one being slandered, I don’t remember him being this eager to help.”

Natalie’s smile faltered, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face.

“She’s just a young girl,” Charlotte continued, her tone dismissive. “There’s no need for Mr. Howard to make such a big deal out of it. A little scolding would have sufficed.” She had just turned to leave when Natalie called after her, “Mr. Howard asked me to check—what would you like for dinner tonight?”

Charlotte paused, not missing a beat. “Takeout.”

…

Evander had his assistant wipe the trending rumors and issue a statement to set the record straight. He barely had time to relax before Natalie’s message arrived.

He had just finished making a reservation at the city’s most exclusive restaurant, only to see that single word—takeout. It stung more than he cared to admit.

He knew Charlotte was only under his roof because they’d reached some temporary truce. He tried, in his own clumsy way, to make amends. Still, no matter what he did, she kept her guard up, bristling like a hedgehog. Nothing he did seemed to get through to her.

Not that he could blame her.

Honestly, he deserved it.

Just then, his phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number. Attached was a photo—a candid shot in a hospital hallway. Judd and Charlotte.

Judd was leaning down, ever so slightly, as if sharing a private word. From this angle, both dressed in crisp white, they looked—maybe not romantic, but perfectly matched. Like they belonged together.

Evander’s jaw tightened, his mood souring in an instant.

He’d never paid much attention to Jonathan Pembroke before. But seeing another man standing so effortlessly at Charlotte’s side—this was the first time it truly bothered him.

At seven that evening, Charlotte stopped by Gardenia Apartments to grab some materials. Professor Aldridge’s team would be arriving in Riverspire soon, and she wanted to be well-prepared for her lecture.

She made her way downstairs, tote bag in hand, and ran straight into Judd, who was just coming back.

She caught sight of the takeout bag in his hand and raised an eyebrow. “Even you order takeout, Professor Carstairs?”

Wasn’t he a notorious germaphobe?

“If I don’t, are you planning to cook for me?”

Charlotte was momentarily at a loss. “Are you joking, Professor Carstairs?”

He looked genuinely perplexed. “You asked, I answered. How is that a joke?”

She fell silent. Was this what genius-level logic looked like?

Judd’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, didn’t answer, and slipped it back into his pocket without a change in expression.

He said nothing, jaw clenched, eyes dark and unreadable as they bore into her.

Charlotte’s chest tightened with unease. She glanced back for Natalie, but her housekeeper had vanished.

She took a step back, instinctively. That simple motion was enough to cut him to the bone.

He stood in the dimmest corner of the room, his expression unreadable. “Charlotte, tell me—what do you want from me? What do you want me to do?”

She stopped, hands clenched tight. “You don’t have to do anything. There’s no going back—not for us.”

With that, she drew a deep breath and walked past him.

Maybe she was imagining it, but as she brushed by—half in shadow, half in light—she caught a glimpse of him at his lowest, a man on the verge of breaking apart.

Charlotte bit her lip and forced herself not to look back.

Did he really feel pain, too?

If so, it still wasn’t enough.

When the door closed behind her, Evander didn’t even notice the cigarette burning down between his fingers. The ash dropped onto his hand, cold and spent, and he didn’t even flinch.