My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage

Chapter 986:

Sometimes, saying less helped avoid misunderstandings.

After finishing her meal, Carrie wiped her mouth and glanced at Daxton. He was still lounging in his chair, casually flipping through a magazine.

She hesitated for a moment, searching for something to say. “When are you going back to work?”

Daxton set his phone down and met her gaze. “There’s nothing urgent today. I thought I’d stay home and keep you company.”noveldrama

Carrie’s brow furrowed. She wasn’t a typical housewife—she had scripts to write, books to read, and deadlines to meet. There was always something demanding her attention, and truthfully, she didn’t need anyone to “keep her company.”

But relationships needed time and effort. Even though they shared a home now, it felt like they communicated less than they had back in college.

Her eyes drifted to the chess set on the shelf—a spur-of-the-moment purchase she’d made while passing a stationery store. It had been collecting dust ever since, a game with no one to play it with.

She glanced back at Daxton, a hint of mischief sparking in her eyes. “Do you know how to play chess?”

“Of course,” Daxton replied, a grin forming. “Have you forgotten? We used to play in college, and you lost to me every single time.” A memory stirred—the two of them hunched over a chessboard in the student lounge, laughter mingling with playful competition. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Carrie stood up and retrieved the chess set from the shelf, a playful glint in her eyes. “Well, it’s been years. Let’s see if you’ve gotten rusty or if I’ve gotten better.”

Daxton’s smile widened. “Is that a challenge?”

He turned off his phone, slipped it into his pocket, and moved to the living room. Clearing the coffee table, he set the sofa cushions on the carpet to create a cozy space.

Carrie followed with the chess set in her hands, her anticipation growing.

Daxton took the box, placed it on the table, and helped her settle in before sitting across from her.

Opening the box, he revealed the chess pieces—delicately crafted glass adorned with intricate blue and pink flowers.

Carrie raised an eyebrow at the aesthetic choice. “There’s no black or white,” she noted with a smirk. “I guess there’s no rule about who goes first. How about we decide with rock, paper, scissors?”

“I’ll take the blue ones,” Daxton said, picking up the pieces. “You go first.”

Carrie lifted her fist, a playful challenge in her eyes. “What, you think I’m an easy win? I don’t need your pity.”

Daxton didn’t argue. They played the first round of rock, paper, scissors, and Daxton’s scissors cut through her paper. Carrie’s face fell slightly, but Daxton’s grin didn’t falter. “Best two out of three?” he suggested, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

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