My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage

Chapter 146:

“You’re going to peel prawns with those?” Kristopher snorted. “Aren’t you worried about ingesting nail polish and getting cancer?”

Carrie waved her hand dramatically. “These are eco-friendly, non-toxic materials! Aren’t they beautiful?”

He leaned back, eyeing her nails with thinly veiled disdain. “I’ve poured so much money into you, and this is the result? What’s wrong with clean, natural nails? Why clutter them up with all these cheap-looking decorations?”

Carrie bit back a sigh and casually retorted, “Well, back then, I didn’t bother with manicures because I was too busy being a housekeeper. Now that I’m free, I want to pamper myself a little.”noveldrama

The words were a defense, nothing more. She didn’t mention that the nails were for a character she was portraying—not that it mattered.

He placed the first piece of prawn meat into her bowl, his voice calm and even. “You’re the one who said you didn’t want a housekeeper around, that it felt like a hassle having strangers in the house. I didn’t marry you to turn you into one.”

Carrie lowered her eyes, her silence heavy. Every compromise she had made in the name of being accommodating seemed, in hindsight, unnecessary.

Perhaps it was no one’s fault. Their lives had always been worlds apart, their incompatibility like oil and water—inevitable from the start.

Kristopher continued peeling, and soon a small mountain of prawn meat accumulated in her bowl, a silent offering that pulled her back to another time. The last time they sat at this stall, she had been the one peeling prawns. She hadn’t eaten a single one, content instead to watch him—the clean lines of his face, the way his brows furrowed slightly as he worked.

Gripping her fork, she mechanically consumed the prawns. This felt like experiencing a fleeting moment of being Mrs. Norris before their impending divorce. The prawns were sweet and tender, yet tasted remarkably bland at the moment. These final moments of intimacy couldn’t resurrect their lost connection.

“I’m full,” she whispered, setting down her fork.

Kristopher consumed the final prawn. “Still tastes the same as it did over a decade ago,” he remarked casually.

Carrie froze. Their last visit was barely a year ago. Was he referencing someone else? Lise?

The name was a phantom that hovered between them, a presence Carrie had never truly confronted. What little she knew of Lise came from whispered gossip spun by those around them and the information she found online.

Forcing a smile, she looked up.

Kristopher reached for a wet wipe, leisurely cleaning his fingers. Sensing her gaze, he looked up. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone neutral, almost detached.

Had he brought Lise here before? Was it Lise’s memory that guided him to this hidden corner of Foxfire County? Had he once peeled prawns for her, his movements just as deliberate, just as gentle?

Carrie’s mind swirled with questions she didn’t dare voice. The irony hit her like a cold wind. For so long, she had blamed Lise for the void in their marriage, believing that her shadow loomed over every corner of their lives. But now, she saw the truth: it wasn’t Lise who had shattered her happiness. It was Lise who had paved the way for her two fleeting years as Mrs. Norris. Without Lise, there would have been no marriage at all. The thought clawed at her, leaving an ache she couldn’t name.

Kristopher returned from settling the bill, his demeanor casual but intent. “The weather’s clear tonight,” he said, his voice measured. “There’s Jade Lake near the night market. We could take a look at the night view.”

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