Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 553

Behind the floor-to-ceiling window of his bedroom, Evander sat on the sofa with his legs crossed, leisurely flipping through a book. The lights from the Nexum building outside cast a soft shadow across the bridge of his high nose, bathing his long eyelashes in a gentle glow.

His slender fingers held the edge of a page as he listened to her voice on the phone. The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. “Pushing your luck, are you?”

“You’re one to talk.”

His smile deepened. “Alright. The weekends it is.”

“About Loretta and Tobias’s marriage,” Charlotte said, “I need the Lowe family to back down on their own. I don’t want to openly defy the patriarch.”

If she were to publicly oppose the marriage, not only would she have to deal with the patriarch’s reaction, but Quincy would undoubtedly use it to stir up more trouble. She didn’t want to make things difficult for her brother and father again.

Evander understood her concerns. “Mhm,” he said. “Leave the Lowes to me.”

…

The next day, Charlotte was having breakfast in the living room with her father and brother. She took a few spoonfuls of hot oatmeal, hesitated for a moment, and then finally spoke. “Dad, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, but I don’t know how to bring it up.”

Sean’s heart started to pound. Was this about that “Mr. Evander”? Were they together?

He couldn’t ask directly, so he just gave a noncommittal reply. “Just say whatever’s on your mind. I can probably handle it.”

“You know how our research institute has been developing a new drug for Alzheimer’s patients? We’ve run into some problems, and I…” Charlotte bit her lip.

Her mother was an Alzheimer’s patient. While her symptoms had been stable, every time Charlotte witnessed her memory fading and her moods swinging, it felt like a needle piercing her heart. The new drug had reached a critical clinical trial phase, and patients like her mother were the ideal candidates.

She knew this was a chance for her mother to get better, a hope for countless other patients. But the words “I need Mom to participate in an experiment” felt like a lead weight in her throat, impossible to get out. She could already imagine how her father would find the idea absurd.

Wesley’s gaze fixed on her face. He had already guessed what she couldn’t say. He put down his fork. “I trust you.”

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify