My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage - Chapter 163

Chapter 163:

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Her raw vulnerability hung in the air between them.

Kristopher observed her, truly seeing her perhaps for the first time. Something within his carefully constructed emotional fortress began to shift. He, who had always remained detached, who struggled to empathize with emotional displays, felt something unfamiliar stirring.

Slowly, he loosened his grip. His hand awkwardly patted her shoulder, reminiscent of how one might comfort a child. “Continue with your acting, your scripts. I won’t interfere.”

Carrie seized her moment of freedom, stepping back decisively. “I don’t want to be Mrs. Norris. I just want to be myself.”

Kristopher’s expression darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes as he watched her. For a man who thrived on control, Carrie was the one thing he couldn’t seem to manage. Negotiations with ruthless business titans felt like child’s play compared to this.

He had contemplated divorce before. As Kristopher Norris, the world offered him countless potential partners. Marriage, for Kristopher, transcended mere emotional impulses. It represented a profound responsibility—a commitment he had sworn to honor, unlike his father’s reckless approach to familial bonds. The pain his sister had endured due to their father’s irresponsibility had etched a permanent resolve within him.

Regaining his composure, he stood and methodically dressed, pulling his shirt back on before moving toward the door.

“Wait.” Carrie’s voice interrupted his departure.

She approached, extending the ointment towards him. “You can have Oliver apply this later.” Her tone carried an unspoken dismissal—a clear message to stay away.

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Kristopher accepted the ointment in silence, his expression darkening. He left without uttering a word.

As Carrie moved to close the door, a fleeting shadow caught her peripheral vision. She stepped into the hallway, scanning the corridor, but found only emptiness. The shadow had passed by the rooms of Asher, the director, and two other minor actors. Perhaps someone was simply taking a moment to breathe, she thought.

The incident barely registered as significant. She closed the door, returning to the quiet sanctuary of her room.

The dawn broke clear the following day, casting a warm, golden hue across the sky. Carrie rose early, slipped into her outfit, and set off to join the film crew. Her long hair flowed freely down her back, complementing her long-sleeved dress. The soft morning light wrapped around her, casting her in a serene glow.

Descending the ornate staircase, Carrie’s gaze fell upon Oliver. He paced near the entrance, his eyes darting to his watch with a mix of impatience and concern. Seeing Carrie, his face lit up with relief, and he hastened over, a small, neatly wrapped package in his hands.

“Mrs. Norris,” he began breathlessly, offering her the package. “Mr. Norris has sent along some new ointment for you. And there’s also a breakfast, freshly prepared, to start your day.”

Carrie paused, letting the package hover in the air between them. “Oliver, I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me Mrs. Norris anymore.” Her voice was firm yet gentle.

Oliver, speaking swiftly, explained, “Mrs. Norris, there’s no need for concern—I saw the crew members at the gate with my own eyes; nobody’s around to overhear.”

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