My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage by Eva Blackwood

Chapter 569:

Carrie closed her eyes, exhaustion radiating from every inch of her body. She was too tired to argue. Kristopher had always had remarkable stamina, leaving her drained after every intimate moment, and now, recovering from her recent ordeal, she could barely find the strength to stand. Yet her weariness wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, a heavy weight dragging her down. They were speaking different languages again, like two people separated by an unbridgeable gulf.

Kristopher stood and adjusted his clothes, then carefully lifted her in his arms. She felt light as a feather, her frailty tugging at something deep in his chest. As he carried her, he pressed a tender kiss to her eyelids, holding her just a bit tighter, as though afraid she might slip away.

Carrie leaned against his chest, her face resting near his collar, but his warmth did nothing to ease the chill gripping her. Her hands and feet were like ice, as if a coldness had seeped into her very soul.

Kristopher brought her into the master bathroom, setting her gently on the edge of the sink. “Why are you so cold?” he asked, concern in his voice. Without waiting for an answer, he turned on the hot water tap, filling the bathtub.

Rings of red and blue shimmered across the surface, golden flecks dancing in the warm glow. Kristopher knelt to remove her clothes, his movements careful and reverent. When the scar from her gunshot wound came into view, his gaze lingered, a mix of guilt and sorrow flickering across his face. Bending down, he pressed a soft kiss to the scar. “Don’t worry,” he

her gaze distant. The scar on her abdomen was nothing compared to the one on her heart. She had lost not only her child but also the dream of ever being a mother

magic

basket, moving with precision. As the water enveloped her, he teased lightly, “Don’t you think

her smile, but his attempt at humor fell flat. Carrie sat stiffly in the water, her body tense and unresponsive. Kristopher’s smile faltered. He hadn’t expected her to laugh, but the

gel and began washing her skin, his touch gentle. She drew her legs up, resting her chin on her knees. As he worked, his eyes roamed over her thin frame, noticing every protruding vertebra on her back and the sharp lines of her shoulders. She

in his gaze quickly shifted to

her hair with a tenderness that seemed almost out of place. Throughout it all, Carrie stayed as motionless as a porcelain doll, her vacant eyes fixed on nothing. Her mind was a whirlwind

mattress, she curled up into a ball, hugging