Rebirth In Divorce My New Mr. Perfect (by Summer Knowles) novel Chapter 858

James had remained silent through all of Charlotte’s yelling—but the moment she insulted Sarah, he finally reacted.

“Charlotte, that’s enough. You’ve gone too far,” he said coldly.

“I’m the one who’s gone too far?” Charlotte shouted, clutching at her clothes and yanking them aside to reveal a faint scar across her abdomen. Her voice shook with rage. “Look at me, James! I’m your wife. I was the one who risked everything to give birth to your child. And I’m the one who loves you the most!”

That last sentence tore out of her with everything she had left. Her voice cracked, nearly breaking into sobs.

The tattered fabric hung loosely from her body as the cold night air cut through her. Her skin turned pale from the chill, but even that pitiful sight didn’t stir a trace of sympathy in James.

Without a word, he turned and got into his car.

The sharp slam of the door was the final blow.

Charlotte’s legs gave out. Overwhelmed in both body and spirit, she collapsed to the ground, kneeling in shock, hollow and numb.

No one knew how long she stayed there. At some point, she clenched her fists and let out a gut-wrenching scream, like a wounded animal fighting for its final breath.

Her cry cut through the silence, as if it could slice through stone and rise to the clouds—calling every storm in the sky to block out the last bit of light.

She kept her eyes open until they burned from dryness. When she finally blinked, the tears came flooding back, hot and unstoppable.

Forcing herself to her feet, she staggered toward James’s car and pounded on the window, desperate for him to look at her.

But he didn’t. He just stared blankly downward, not sparing her even a glance.

“James! What do you want from me?!”

The engine started.

The car inched forward slowly, nudging her out of the way—not violently, but with cold finality. As if he had just enough conscience not to run her over… but not enough to care.

Charlotte stood frozen, then turned and stumbled to her own car.

Expressionless, she picked up her phone and dialed a number without looking.

The line was busy.

Then she remembered—Sarah had already blocked her. She must’ve changed her number.

Charlotte tried again using her second SIM card.

This time, it went through.

She slammed her fists against the steering wheel.

Just ahead was the entrance to Pine Mist Island’s Christmas gala. The one invitation had been torn apart—by her own hands.

Good. Fine.

If she couldn’t go, then neither could he.

She turned on the car’s heater. It took several minutes before she could even feel her limbs again. That’s when the pain in her fingers hit her all at once.

Blood had begun to seep from the cuts left by the invitation’s sharp edges, dripping slowly onto the steering wheel.

And once again, she broke down.

Later, she drove home.

Only after collapsing onto her soft bed did she feel like she was breathing again.

But James never came back.