A Second Chance with My Husband in the Past のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 131 - チャプター 140

"Charlotte," he'd said voice steady but softer than she'd ever heard it—no barked command, just a simple offer. "Let me drop you at the hospital."She'd paused, bag slung over her shoulder, surprise flickering through her. The Howard from her past life would never—could never—stoop to such ordinary kindness, not for her. But this one... his eyes held no ice, just quiet resolve. She'd nodded, sliding into the passenger seat with a murmured "Okay," the door clicking shut.Now, the car glided along tree-lined roads, sunlight dappling the dashboard in golden patches. Howard drove with uncharacteristic care—hands firm at ten and two, signaling every turn even on empty stretches, eyes scanning mirrors more than the road ahead. No speeding through yellows, no sharp lane weaves like the aggressive heir she remembered. It was deliberate, almost gentle, as if the weight of Ruby's loss and their shared breakfast had carved away his sharper edges.Charlotte sat beside him, knees pressed together,

Howard's eyes snapped to Julia's face as she finished recounting the unexpected news about Daisy.For a fleeting second, shock rippled across his features—his brows furrowed sharply, and his jaw slackened just enough to betray the jolt."It's strange?" he said, his voice low and edged with disbelief, the question hanging in the air like a half-formed thought.Then, as if shaking off the moment, he straightened in his chair, his expression hardening back to its usual composure. "Okay, leave this. Continue with the schedule."Julia nodded once, her posture steady and professional, before picking up her notes and resuming where she'd left off.Howard's eyes drifted to the window, his gaze lost in the city streets. "Daisy, dead? Just like that?" he muttered, his voice barely audible. "How did this happen?"The question hung in the air, unanswered. And then there was Ryan's warning, echoing in his mind like a ghostly whisper. The man had been so convinced that Daisy was a spy, working agai

The Valco family was already gathered around the dining table, Rita glanced at the empty seat, her brow furrowing, and turned to Charlotte. "Honey, go upstairs and see what's keeping Howard—tell him dinner's getting cold."Charlotte nodded, pushing back her chair with a scrape. "Sure, Mom." She rose and spun toward the dim hall just as heavy footsteps thudded down the creaky stairs.Howard tugged at the collar of Steven's faded flannel shirt, the fabric pulling taut across his broad chest like it was fighting back. It was a size too small, borrowed from a man whose life was scraped by on factory shifts and mended hopes, worlds away from the tailored suits Howard wore like a second skin. He adjusted anyway, rolling his shoulders to loosen the strain, and eased into the rickety wooden chair beside Charlotte.Charlotte settled back into hers first, her hands folding neatly in her lap, her eyes flicking nervously between the mismatched plates on the scarred kitchen table.It was the first

Rita and Steven burst into the kitchen, noses wrinkling at the fresh whiff of burning rolls. "What in the world—did you char another batch?" Rita started, words dying mid-stride.They froze in track, eyes widening at the sight: Howard and Charlotte locked in that deep kiss, his hands cupping her face, her fingers twisted in his shirt—flour everywhere, sink still running.Charlotte heard her mother's sharp intake and jerked back first, cheeks flaming crimson. Howard stepped away too, clearing his throat, lips still tingling.Rita and Steven exchanged glances, then burst into grins—knowing, delighted.Charlotte fanned her face, mortified. "Mom! It's not—the rolls just—"Rita chuckled, waving a hand. "Oh, I see. Well, I think you two should stick to what you're good at and leave my bakery alone." She winked, teasing. "Rolls are safe now."Howard ducked his head, a rare flush on his neck, mumbling, "Sorry, Mrs. Valco," before slipping out toward the front, shoulders tense with embarrassme

Howard gripped the wheel differently tonight—morning's easy calm evaporated, replaced by a furrowed stare into traffic, jaw set like he chewed on thorns. Charlotte side-eyed him, reading the tension in his knuckles gone white. "Rough day?" she ventured, voice light but probing. He shrugged, eyes fixed ahead. "Nothing." The lie hung thick—she knew it by the clipped edge, the way he dodged her gaze like a guilty kid. She let silence simmer a beat, then twisted toward him with a spark. "I'm starving. Pull over somewhere—let's eat."His head snapped her way, brows shooting up in genuine shock, a ghost of amusement cracking the storm. "Outside?" Tires crunched gravel as he eased to the roadside shoulder, city lights smearing past. She nodded, a grin teasing. "Yeah, but skip the fancy spots—no caviar or gold-flecked whatever. Luxury grub sits like lead in my gut." Her joke landed soft; he huffed a half-smile—not full, but real enough to loosen his shoulders a fraction. "Alright," he muttere