My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage

Chapter 826:

She waved her hand before his unfocused gaze. “Hello? Earth to Kristopher! Has the heat addled your brain completely? Hold on, I’m calling an ambulance.”

As she reached for her phone, Kristopher’s fingers wrapped around her wrist. His voice emerged strained and hoarse. “Don’t. I just need to sit for a moment.”

The nearby benches beckoned, barely a hundred meters away. Their slow progress stretched seconds into minutes, neither breaking the heavy silence between them.

While Carrie yearned to escape the suffocating atmosphere, Kristopher found himself deliberately dragging his feet, harboring an inexplicable desire to prolong their contact.

Forever, if possible.

The thought startled him, yanking him back to his senses. When had he become this kind of person?

Here he was, engaged to Aliza, yet fantasizing about an endless walk with his ex-wife.

He questioned his own sanity—after all, he’d divorced Carrie with full mental clarity. If he’d truly loved her, how could he have let her go?

The realization settled like a stone in his chest. He almost wanted to laugh at himself. What was he thinking? That he still loved her? The very notion was absurd.

As soon as he reached the bench, he wasted no time pulling his arm from Carrie’s grasp. His voice turned cold, distant. “Ms. Campbell, have some self-respect.”

Carrie’s eyes widened, stunned. Was he serious?

She had been nothing but helpful, and instead of gratitude, she got this? Talk about a slap in the face. Unbelievable. If she had just walked away earlier, none of this would have happened. What did it matter if he fainted on the road? He wouldn’t have died.

She had extended her hand in kindness to steady him, yet his response left her stunned. “Have some self-respect,” he had declared with inexplicable haughtiness, completely failing to show any gratitude. The irony of his memory loss making him even more insufferable wasn’t lost on her.

Taking a calculated step backward, she let a sardonic smile play across her lips. “My, my, Mr. Norris, your duplicity knows no bounds,” she observed. “You present yourself as virtuous, yet your actions tell quite a different tale. Where was all this talk of ‘self-respect’ during your rather memorable performance at the Morrison Manor’s party?” Her voice dripped with mockery as she deliberately emphasized those last words.

Her satisfaction bloomed as she watched Kristopher stand there, rendered speechless by her pointed reminder.

Rather than wait for him to cobble together a response, Carrie pivoted to leave. In that fluid motion, her gaze caught on something—water bottles gleaming behind the vending machine’s glass.

Her steps faltered as her attention darted between the bottle and the merciless sun blazing beyond the doorway, its heat practically radiating through the entrance.noveldrama

Carrie sighed, shaking her head as she walked toward the vending machine. She didn’t know why she was even bothering.

Meanwhile, Kristopher, who had assumed she had already left, lifted his head—only to see her standing there, the vending machine humming beside her.

A sharp pain shot through his skull. His breathing hitched. Fragmented images flooded his mind. Carrie, holding two bottles of cola, handing one to another man.

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