Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 402

“She’s cruel, he said…”

Charlotte Sterling’s gaze dimmed, but she met his deep, shadowed eyes without flinching. “Cruel? What I’ve done doesn’t even come close to what you did to me.”

He had expected her answer, and a faint, bitter smile touched his lips. “So, you’ve always hated me. Even now, you only stay because of the promise my mother made you keep. Isn’t that right?”

She froze.

He knew about Miranda Sutherland’s promise to her?

Evander Howard caught every flicker of emotion on her face—the way she looked away, the uncertainty in her eyes. There was no doubt he’d hit the mark.

He sat down nearby, pressing a hand to his forehead as if to hold back everything threatening to spill from his chest. But the words came out cold and clipped. “You can go now.”

Charlotte didn’t move.

Suddenly, he shouted at her, “Go on! Leave!”

Startled, she said nothing, just quietly opened the car door and stepped out.

Evander reached for her, but his hand closed on empty air. He watched her walk away, her figure shrinking into the night, and a heavy ache settled in his chest—a metallic tang rising in his throat.

…

Charlotte didn’t return to the hotel. Instead, she caught a cab across town to Noreen Lennox’s apartment.

Noreen answered the door with her trademark grin. “Well, well. Dr. Sterling, nowhere else to go tonight?”

Charlotte stepped inside, managing a wry smile. “Guess I’m homeless for the night.”

She had no intention of going back to the hotel, and if she returned to Gardenia Apartments, she had no idea what she’d say to Judd Carstairs.

With nowhere else to go and her thoughts swirling, she’d ended up at Noreen’s place, hoping for a little peace and quiet.

“Vera’s working the night shift, so I’ve got the place to myself,” Noreen said, grabbing a bottle of red wine from the kitchen. “Stay and keep me company? Let’s have a couple glasses.”

Charlotte nodded. “Sounds good.”

Jacques planted his hands on his hips, struggling to keep his voice steady. “What did you promise your mother? You know how serious your condition is—”

“I’m fine,” Evander interrupted.

“You’re coughing up blood and you call that fine?” Jacques snapped, but then something seemed to click. He turned to Evander, suspicion in his eyes. “Is this because of Charlotte?”

“…It has nothing to do with her.”

Evander’s denial only made Jacques pace the room in agitation. “If it isn’t her, then what is it? Evander, when did you become like this?”

The son he’d always been so proud of, reduced to this by a woman—Jacques couldn’t accept it.

Evander rubbed his brow, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. “Really, it’s not about her.”

“It better not be!” Jacques threw his hands up in frustration and stormed out, barking at Secretary Holden in the hallway, “Keep an eye on him, and don’t let him get anywhere near a cigarette.”

As the commotion faded, Evander sat in silence, staring out the window. His expression grew darker, and the weight of everything left unsaid pressed in around him.