Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 272

“Yes, ma’am.”

Meanwhile, Natalie quietly opened the door to Hiram’s bedroom and walked up behind Evander. “Mr. Howard, Jonathan just left the estate on his own.”

Evander gazed out the window, a faint, ambiguous smile playing on his lips. “Looks like he’s figured out who’s been whispering in his mother’s ear.”

Natalie lowered her eyes. “So, you already know?”

His expression darkened. He kept his eyes on a spray of blossoming branches outside. “There’s no one else it could be—only her.”

“I looked into it. She’s been going to The Carstairs these past three days, but they refused to see her.”

Evander fell silent.

It had taken him ten years to see through Tricia’s mask.

And yet, some part of him still refused to believe she’d ever risk her own life to save his.

That memory…

If only he could remember it clearly.

But what if, in the end, the person in that memory really was her?

If that were true, what would he possibly say to Charlotte?

—

Jonathan arrived at Tricia’s apartment.

He knocked. When Tricia opened the door and saw him standing there, her smile froze. “Why are you here…”

Without a word, Jonathan slapped her across the face.

She crashed into the entryway table, reeling, and glared at him in outrage. “Did you just hit me?”

“What did you say to my parents?” Jonathan grabbed her by the throat and pinned her against the cabinet, veins standing out on the back of his hand. “What does my hospital stay have to do with Charlotte? Why are you spreading rumors?”

“I—I was only trying to help you—” Tricia gasped, coughing.

“Shut up!” Jonathan shoved her away.

She collapsed onto the floor, gulping for air, and flinched as he stepped closer.

Night had fallen.

Charlotte drifted in uneasy sleep, haunted by the memory of being kidnapped with those five children.

She dreamt of the sickly boy, the one who coughed up black blood that splattered across another boy’s face. In a flash, that boy’s face morphed into Judd’s.

Charlotte jolted awake, her whole body trembling.

Suddenly, someone slipped their arms around her.

She cried out in panic.

The bedside lamp snapped on.

Evander was holding her, wiping the cold sweat from her forehead. “Another nightmare?”

Charlotte’s mind was still foggy. She couldn’t understand why she’d suddenly linked Judd to one of those boys from all those years ago…

“Charlotte.” Evander’s voice was gentle, steadying.

Hearing him, she gradually calmed down. Then she looked up, still dazed. “Why are you in my room?”