Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 313

His gaze was a tangled web of longing and resignation, shadowed by emotions he tried to keep hidden.

Once, Charlotte would never have imagined seeing Evander look so defeated.

She averted her eyes. “I really do need to use the restroom.”

She hurried away, clutching her hand tighter than she realized, not daring to look back even for a moment, afraid that a single glance would pull her right back into his world.

In the ladies’ room, Charlotte dabbed on a bit of lipstick, hoping to look a little more lively. Just then, a well-dressed woman in her forties walked in, wearing a black lace beret and immaculate makeup. Her features were almost unnaturally perfect—beautiful, but with a stiffness that hinted at cosmetic work.

Yet something about her eyes and brows struck Charlotte as oddly familiar, as if they’d met somewhere before.

The woman offered a warm smile, and Charlotte returned it politely before looking away. As she was about to leave, the woman brushed past her, and a massive diamond ring on her finger accidentally snagged Charlotte’s hair, making her wince in pain.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I got your hair!” The woman flustered, genuinely panicked, as if this kind of mishap had never happened to her before. “It’s all my fault—my husband’s always telling me I’m hopelessly clumsy, forever making trouble for others. I’m so sorry.”

Before Charlotte could even process the situation, the woman’s eyes welled up with tears, as if she were the one being bullied.

“Please, ma’am, you don’t need to cry. I’m not upset,” Charlotte said quickly.

The woman dabbed at her eyes. “You really are a kind soul.”

Charlotte offered her a tissue. “It’s just a bit of hair. No harm done.”

The woman paused, then accepted the tissue with a grateful nod. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Charlotte.”

“A lovely name,” the woman beamed. “I’m Zoe. I work in aesthetics—same field as you, I suppose.”

Charlotte froze for a beat.

Charlotte poured herself a glass of wine and chatted with the person beside her.

Dinner didn’t wrap up until eight o’clock. As everyone filed out of the restaurant, a damp chill hit them—it must have just poured. Puddles shimmered on the pavement, mirroring the neon lights across the street.

Charlotte had had more to drink than usual, and the cool air made her head swirl.

Rosemary watched Professor Aldridge’s team head to their car, then turned to Charlotte. “Lottie, you’re not drunk, are you?”

Charlotte slipped her arm through her grandmother’s. “Gran, I’m fine. Completely sober.”

Rosemary eyed her. “You’ve had quite a bit tonight. Was it because Evander wasn’t here?”

Charlotte shook her head. “It had nothing to do with him.”

“Alright, alright. I promised I wouldn’t meddle in your business, and I won’t,” Rosemary said, patting her hand.