Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 9

Apologize…

Charlotte let out a hollow laugh, gripping the finalized divorce papers in her hand, doing her best to steady her voice. "Will you be home tonight?"

"Evander, who's calling you?" Tricia's sweet, syrupy voice rang out clearly in Charlotte's ear.

"Just a work call." Evander answered offhandedly, not bothering to hang up or even lower his voice. "What time do you get off? I'll pick you up and we can go get Hans together."

Tricia giggled, sounding even more delighted. "I'm free tonight—my shift ends at six."

By the time Charlotte came back to herself, the call had already ended.

She stared at the signed divorce papers, her expression dimming.

She'd originally wanted to ask him to come home and sign them in person, but he couldn't even be bothered to listen through her request.

How ridiculous.

She should never have taken his promises seriously all those years ago…

…

Evander accompanied Tricia to pick up Hans from kindergarten.

Hans emerged from the front doors with the principal, and the moment he spotted Evander, he broke free and ran at full speed. "Daddy!"

Under the eyes of teachers and parents alike, Hans flung himself at Evander's legs, hugging him tightly, his whole face beaming with joy. "Daddy, are you and Mommy here to pick me up?"

The principal approached with a beaming smile. "Mr. Howard, Mrs. Howard, young Hans was wonderful in class today—he even earned a gold star!"

A flicker of annoyance crossed Evander's face as he shot a sharp look at the principal. "Who did you just call Mrs. Howard?"

The principal froze.

Had she gotten it wrong?

Tricia quickly grabbed his arm. "Evander, don't be upset. I'm sure the principal meant no harm." She turned to the principal. "Please, just be careful with how you address us in the future."

The principal was left bewildered.

What did that mean?

Hadn't Tricia herself hinted that Hans was Mr. Howard's son? If she wasn't Mrs. Howard, then whose child was Hans…?

The lives of the wealthy really were complicated.

At home, Charlotte sat at the kitchen bar, nursing her second glass of whiskey. She wasn't much of a drinker, only pouring herself a glass or two when she needed to unwind.

She stiffened when she heard the front door open.

Evander stepped inside, his suit jacket draped over his arm, wearing only a gray silk shirt.

He changed his shoes and glanced her way. "Drinking?"

Charlotte composed herself, answering calmly. "Just a little."

She set the glass down and moved to walk past him. The stark white light illuminated her face, revealing the obvious swelling along her cheek.

His gaze sharpened. "What happened to your face?"

She froze.

A bitter smile rose in her heart.

Since when did he start noticing things about her?

Before she could answer, his voice came from behind. "Did Xavier Sterling hit you?"