My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage

Chapter 63:noveldrama

Fishing out her phone, she quickly booked a ride. Just as the confirmation buzzed on her screen, the heavens opened with a dramatic crack of lightning. Thunder rumbled in quick succession, and raindrops the size of marbles began pelting down.

Carrie raised the bag she carried over her head as a makeshift shield and broke into a run, her shoes splashing through muddy puddles. By the time she reached the roadside, she was drenched to the bone, her hair plastered against her face, and her coat sagging with water.

The white Volkswagen she had booked pulled up ahead, its headlights cutting through the downpour. But before she could step forward, another car—a gleaming silver Maybach—swept in front of it with smooth authority. The door swung open, and out stepped Oliver, holding a large black umbrella that he quickly angled over her.

Without missing a beat, he gestured to the back seat.

“Get in,” came Kristopher’s stern command from inside the car, his dark expression brooking no argument.

Carrie flicked a disinterested look at Kristopher, then averted her eyes as if he were merely an inconsequential stranger lingering in the background. She stepped boldly from the shelter of Oliver’s umbrella, embracing the downpour as she strode toward the car she had booked.

“Mrs. Norris, Mr. Norris has specifically come to drive you home,” Oliver called out with urgency in his voice, though he hesitated to physically intervene by reaching out to stop her.

Meanwhile, Kristopher remained silent, observing the scene unfold. Without a word, he left the car. With swift steps, he intercepted Carrie, slamming the rear door of the car she had just opened.

“What are you doing?” Carrie’s initial irritation quickly morphed into bewilderment. Ignoring her question, Kristopher scooped her up effortlessly and carried her towards his car.

“Put me down!” Carrie demanded, wriggling in his arms in a vain attempt to escape. Her voice was thick with exasperation. “Kristopher, is this how you show respect to a woman? Forcing me to accompany you in such a manner?”

Powerless to resist, she could only watch helplessly as Kristopher gently placed her in the backseat of his car. Kristopher slid into the car, his eyes immediately drawn to the damp marks her presence had left on his clothing. His eyebrows knitted in a fleeting scowl.

Carrie’s hair, drenched from the rain, clung to her cheeks in wet tendrils. Droplets fell from the ends, staining the delicate embroidery of the luxury blanket under her feet with dark, spreading splotches.

Oliver was the first to react upon entering the vehicle. He flicked on the air conditioner and extended a dry blanket toward Carrie. “Mrs. Norris, please dry off your hair,” Oliver offered calmly.

Observing her disheveled state, Kristopher couldn’t resist throwing a playful jab her way. “Why did you walk away like that? How foolish of you.”

In his view, Carrie was merely acting out, engaging in trivial dramatics. He failed to grasp why she would choose to compromise her comfort just to prove a point.

Carrie stopped patting her hair dry and turned to face him. “If you hadn’t butted in unexpectedly, I would have been in the car already. Why did I have to be out in the rain this long?” Their gazes locked.

Memories of how Kristopher had left her alone at the dinner for Lise flooded back, heating Carrie’s eyes with the threat of tears. Her face, usually so striking in its composure, now betrayed a hint of sorrow. Her eyes, typically soft and warm, sparkled with a defiant edge, her tears lingering on the brink yet refusing to fall.

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