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.

house, would anyone even notice if her breath stopped one day? Elizabeth let out a weary sigh, her body heavy as she

battle, sending sharp pains surging through her from the surface of her skin down to her sore

and hollow, amplified even the smallest

silence, 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

the sanctuary of her bedroom, she collapsed onto the bed, the very picture of exhaustion,

succumbed to this weariness, the

reached out to me

Kristopher’s voice cut through the line, cold and distant as

off guard by

to respond, but before she could collect her thoughts, a soft, feminine voice

you join me

emotions gripped Elizabeth’s hand tightly around the phone, her heart pounding faster with each passing

panic and unable to restrain her rising anxiety,

in a flat, uninterested tone, “If you

got urgent matters, so I need to

the call, cutting off any chance

filled her ears, Elizabeth’s lips twisted into a rueful

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

of self-inflicted irony, Elizabeth turned on her tablet and scrolled

headline caught her eye: “A female star shielded from harassment at a dinner

all too well what it was like to face harassment