My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage by Eva Blackwood

Chapter 3 After a moment of stillness, fresh tears welled in Elizabeth’s eyes, unstoppable and raw.

Perhaps it was time to release herself from the grip of her own false hopes—to finally face the reality she had refused to see.

The sheer volume of injuries from the fire was staggering, putting immense pressure on the already overwhelmed doctors and nurses as they tried to provide aid.

Elizabeth had been only slightly grazed by a broken clothes rack, which left a deep, jagged wound on her calf.

Compared to the chaos around her, her injuries seemed almost insignificant.

She managed to receive basic care—a swift cleaning and a quick bandage wrap—at a local hospital before catching a cab back to her residence.

Bayview Villa, an opulent property under Kristopher’s ownership, was technically their marital home.

Living alone had become her routine, as Kristopher was hardly ever present.

She had bid farewell to the housekeeper, realizing that her life could easily be managed with takeout, deliveries, and the occasional visit from a part-time cleaner.

Now, she found herself as the lone occupant in the expansive living room, sinking into the couch, her gaze wandering across the vacant space.

The stark, monochromatic decor did little to bring warmth to the room.

A chilling realization crept in: this vast, refined space felt more like an enormous tomb, a quiet memorial for her lost youth and a love that had silently faded.

Elizabeth let out a weary sigh, her body

surging through her from the surface of her

hollow, amplified even the smallest sounds, heightening

that Elizabeth truly understood the all-encompassing nature of her loneliness—it was almost palpable, wrapping itself around her like a thick, sorrowful fog, tightening around her heart like a vice, causing a dull, persistent

collapsed onto the bed, the very picture of exhaustion, feeling it both physically

to this weariness, the sharp ring of the

out to me

Kristopher’s voice cut through the line, cold and

caught off guard by

before she could collect her thoughts, a soft, feminine voice drifted

you

around the phone, her heart pounding

with panic and unable to restrain her rising anxiety, she demanded, “Who’s with

gave no reply, merely stating in a flat, uninterested tone, “If you need

so

cutting off any chance for

of the disconnected line filled her ears, Elizabeth’s lips

knew his response, yet she had clung to the hope of hearing his voice

turned on her

a dinner by her formidable

too well what it was like to face