Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 309

The next day, Charlotte and Vera headed out together, only to bump into Judd as they stepped into the lobby.

“Good morning, Dr. Carstairs,” Vera greeted him politely.

Judd nodded in return.

Just then, his gaze slid past them and landed on Evander, who was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. “Morning, Mr. Carstairs,” Evander said with a hint of a smile.

Judd’s expression cooled instantly; the tension was obvious.

Charlotte walked toward the elevator, oblivious to the silent standoff unfolding behind her. Only Vera glanced back, unable to resist a peek at the drama.

What was the term for a scene like this? A showdown?

Once the elevator doors slid shut, Judd finally broke the silence. “No need to be so provocative every time we run into each other, Mr. Howard.”

Evander smoothed his jacket in a show of carelessness. “Was I? I hadn’t noticed.”

Judd chuckled, a note of sarcasm in his voice. “Isn’t it obvious? You bought Gardenia Apartments, then moved in next door. What’s next, cameras in the hallway?”

Evander’s eyes narrowed slightly as he toyed with the ring on his finger. “You do realize Charlotte and I aren’t divorced yet, right? You seem awfully eager for someone who claims to be above it all.”

Judd shot back, voice cool. “And you’re an expert on scheming, are you? Tell me, when Charlotte was so wary of Tricia back then, did you ever once make her feel safe?”

For a fleeting moment, Evander’s gaze darkened.

Judd pressed on, “The difference is, I still have some boundaries. At least I won’t cross a line before she’s actually divorced. Unlike your ex, I have a little self-restraint.”

With that, Judd strode toward the elevator and disappeared inside, leaving Evander alone in the hallway.

The motion-sensor light overhead cast a pale, unwelcoming glow on Evander’s face, sharpening the chill in his expression and making the corridor feel even colder.

…

Meanwhile, Loretta was at a downtown pawnshop, turning over the gold coin from her bracelet.

The shop owner picked up the coin and, the moment he felt its weight, his eyes went wide. He fetched a magnifying glass and spent several minutes inspecting it, growing more and more excited. This was a genuine medieval gold coin—no doubt about it!

But hadn’t it once belonged to the Rayburn family?

Across town, Wesley Rayburn answered a call from his father. “They found your sister’s gold coin. It turned up in Riverspire City.”

Wesley stepped off the treadmill, wiping sweat from his brow. “What gold coin?”

“Back when your grandfather was alive, he gave each of you kids a family heirloom coin,” his father explained. “When your sister was born, everyone thought she was stillborn. But your mother put her coin with her before she realized your sister was still alive. The baby they buried didn’t have a coin. Your mother was never the same after no one believed her.”

He paused, emotion thickening his voice. “I’ve been searching for that coin for years. At last, it’s resurfaced.”

Wesley froze, memories flooding back.

He remembered, as a child, his grandfather handing him a coin and saying another would go to his future sibling. When his mother went into labor, Wesley waited anxiously outside the delivery room, eager to meet his little brother or sister. But the nurses and doctors rushed back and forth, their faces grave. The somber expressions of his grandparents were seared into his memory.

He hadn’t understood what had happened at the time.

Later, people told him his baby sister had died at birth.

And his mother, in her grief, had lost her mind.