Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 35

The mattress dipped behind her, the weight pressing close. Two bodies, skin to skin, and Charlotte tensed—she could feel him changing, could feel everything shifting. Her whole body went rigid, as if she were a corpse, cold and unmoving. "Evander," she blurted, voice sharp and brittle, "was Tricia not enough for you?"

She knew Evander. He'd never stoop to forcing himself on her, not even in his worst moods.

But now? Now she wasn't sure.

The intimacy she used to crave had turned sour. It felt impossible to bear, knowing he could be with Tricia and then come to her as if nothing had happened.

It made her feel sick.

Evander could sense her revulsion as clearly as if she'd shouted it. His eyes, fixed on hers, darkened.

He'd realized long ago—her face was almost too striking, the beauty of it unsettling, made all the more so by the dark beauty mark at the corner of her eye. It set her apart, made her alluring but not vulgar, impossible to forget.

And yet… that tiny mark always bothered him in ways he couldn't explain. He was sure he'd seen it somewhere before, long ago.

Maybe that was why, whenever he looked at Charlotte, a strange irritation began to simmer under his skin.

He yanked his tie loose. "We're married, Charlotte. Whether you like it or not, this is part of my duty as your husband."

Her eyes widened. She tried to push him away. "I don't—" But before she could finish, his hand clamped over her wrist, his mouth finding the curve of her neck, breath hot and wild against her skin.

She could hardly breathe. Shame and anger welled up inside her, tears blurring her vision. She turned her face away.

Evander's fingers wrapped tight around hers, then—suddenly—he froze.

His gaze dropped to her bare left hand.

The wedding ring she'd worn for six years was gone.

All that remained was a faint, pale line.

"When did you take it off?" His fingertips brushed the mark, his voice hoarse and almost casual, as if the question meant nothing.

Charlotte stared at him, silent, caught off guard.

She'd stopped wearing the ring the night she'd asked for a divorce.

Just then, Evander's phone rang.

He pulled his shirt together and sat up, grabbing his phone as he left the room.

Charlotte watched him go, her face empty of all emotion. The heat of his touch still lingered on her skin. Was this how he touched Tricia as well?

The thought made her stomach turn.

Not long after, Evander ended his call and returned to the bedroom. Charlotte was gone. The sound of running water echoed from the bathroom.

He approached the door, lifted his hand to knock—but stopped, hesitated, then let his hand fall away.

He grabbed his jacket and left the room.

Who was spreading all those rumors about Dr. Sterling? She was always so kind.

—

Elsewhere, Dr. Fontaine arrived at Tricia's hospital room, arms full of gifts. He explained he'd taken the liberty of reassigning Charlotte's duties.

Tricia's lips curled in satisfaction, careful not to show too much. "Dr. Fontaine, you're so kind to me. I hardly know how to thank you."

"No need, no need," Fontaine replied, rubbing his hands together, voice laden with suggestion. "As long as you could put in a good word for me with Mr. Howard, that's all I ask…"

Tricia's smile sharpened. She'd expected as much. "Of course. I'll make sure Evander doesn't forget all you've done."

"Thank you, thank you. I'll let you get some rest, Director Winthrop."

Fontaine left the room, beaming.

As soon as the door closed, Tricia's smile vanished.

What an idiot—so eager to be used.

This was the taste of real power.

Charlotte, your luck has finally run out.