Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 283

He stopped in his tracks, turning to fix his gaze on her. "What do you mean?"

She let out a bitter laugh. "I lied to you. I wasn't the one who saved you. I can tell you who it was, but you have to promise me one thing. As long as you agree, I’ll never show up in front of you or Charlotte again.”

…

One week later.

Charlotte’s stitches were finally out, but her right hand still couldn’t grip anything—not even a fork.

Noreen watched her with a worried expression. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to hold a scalpel again?”

Charlotte tried to sound upbeat. “It’ll heal over time. I’m still young, I’ll recover.”

She was the patient, yet somehow she ended up comforting Noreen. The concern in Noreen’s eyes deepened. “Whoever did this to you is despicable. People like that just… shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.”

Charlotte glanced at the scar on her right hand, her face calm.

Lately, she kept recalling that small red birthmark on Tricia’s wrist.

The whole thing felt like a cruel joke.

Her adoptive parents were killed by their own biological daughter. The irony of it all—tragic and absurd.

Not long after Noreen left, a group of people arrived at the hospital room, their arms weighed down with lavish gifts.

It was the first time Charlotte had met Mrs. Carstairs in person.

Like Mrs. Rayburn, Daphne Carstairs was striking in her own way—a beauty with presence.

The moment Daphne saw Charlotte, she was struck by a sense of familiarity, though she couldn’t quite place it. “You must be Charlotte. I owe you an apology. I completely misunderstood you before.”

“Is Mrs. Carstairs’ idea of a misunderstanding having someone stab me in the hand?”

Daphne froze, caught off guard by the bluntness of Charlotte’s reply.

She’d already done her homework and knew she’d been used in all of this.

“I didn’t know Tricia would go that far,” Daphne said, her composure faltering. “All I meant was to have you kept away for a while—I never intended anything like this. I had no idea she’d use me like that.” The words came out awkward, her pride stung.

A lifetime of careful decisions, and a single rash moment had let a younger woman manipulate her.

And it had ended in disaster.

Just then, the door to the hospital room opened.

Daphne stepped out.

She was about to greet her son, but when her eyes landed on Evander, she paused in surprise. “Evander?”

He nodded, glancing at the pile of gifts in the bodyguard’s arms. “You’ve been very generous to my wife, Mrs. Carstairs.”

“Your wife?” Daphne’s eyes widened.

“Didn’t Mr. Carstairs tell you?” Evander’s expression was composed, almost triumphant. “Charlotte is my wife.”

Daphne looked from the silent Judd to Charlotte in her hospital bed, then back at Evander.

Her head was spinning.

Still, she managed to keep a smile on her face. “And the Howard family didn’t think to let me know about this wedding?”

“My mother wouldn’t allow it.”

At the mention of Miranda, Daphne just smiled and said nothing more. She didn’t ask any further.