My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage by Eva Blackwood

Chapter 366:

Afterward, she felt dizzy. As she stood up, her legs shook weakly. He chuckled, “I'll sign you up for a gym

membership. You need to exercise more to improve your stamina. You are so weak.”

Carrie noticed that his cheeks now held a healthy flush. Gone was the pallor of his hospital stay; he looked

robust, nothing like a man who had recently brushed against death. She eyed him skeptically. “Were you really

that badly hurt?”

Kristopher leaned back against the headboard with a sigh. “It turns out | am quite sick. I'm already exhausted

after just a short while.”

He glanced at Carrie and added, “My main artery was nearly cut through. | was on the verge of dying. Do you

understand the gravity of severing an artery? It's a common way for someone to commit suicide.”

Carrie paused, her biology knowledge limited, and asked with a frown, “Is there a major artery in the—"

Kristopher explained earnestly, “Yes, the axillary artery. It extends from the subclavian artery, runs through the

armpit, and along the lower edge of the latissimus dorsi muscle, becoming the brachial artery.”

He continued, “Even if you're a literature student, you should still know a bit of basic biology, shouldn't you?

How can you not know this?”

Carrie pouted and said, “That was years ago. Who remembers all that?” Her body ached, and she was in no

mood to argue further with Kristopher. His use of detailed medical terminology made it unlikely that he was

fabricating the story. “I'm going to take a shower first. Stay here, and I'll help you clean up afterward.

Remember, your wound can’t get wet, so no bathing.” As she started moving toward the bathroom, Kristopher’s

phone began to ring. Seeing that she was closer, he quickly interjected, “Don’t move, I'll answer it.” She limped

over and reached for the phone, then hesitated. The caller ID displayed Lise’s name. Suddenly, she remembered

the unresolved issues surrounding their decision not to divorce today. If Lise wasn’t addressed, their marriage

couldn't proceed. Her love was selfish and couldn't accommodate a third person.

Carrie pouted and said, “That was years ago. Who remembers all that?” Her body was sore, and she was in no

mood to debate further with Kristopher. His use of detailed medical terminology made it seem unlikely that he

was making things up.

“I'm going to take a shower first. Stay here, and I'll help you clean up afterward. Remember, your wound can’t

get wet, so no bathing.”

As she began heading to the bathroom, Kristopher’s phone started to ring. Seeing that she was closer, she

quickly interjected, “Don’t move, I'll answer it.” She limped over to pick up the phone, then hesitated. The caller

ID displayed Lise’s name. She suddenly remembered the unresolved issues regarding their decision not to

divorce today. If Lise wasn’t addressed, their marriage couldn't move forward. Her love was selfish and couldn't

accommodate a third person.

The incessant ringing of the phone drew a playful arch of Kristopher’s eyebrow as he teased, “What's wrong?

Your legs are too weak to carry you now?” His smile was uncharacteristic, a rare departure from his typically

reserved nature. Carrie, on the other hand, was not in the mood for jokes; her features slowly hardened. As

Kristopher caught the chill in her glare, recognition dawned on him—he knew exactly who was on the other end

of that call. His teasing grin faded, replaced by concern as he softly uttered, “Carrie...” Compelled by his tone,

Carrie set aside her reservations and approached the bedside, phone in hand. With a serene composure, unlike

her usual fiery self, she extended the phone toward him. There was no bite in her voice, no spark of argument,

only a tranquil stare. Kristopher locked eyes with her for a brief moment, on the verge of refusing the call, but

the words lodged in his throat. An internal voice, anxious for Lise, nudged him forward. He accepted the phone

with a reluctant hand and swiped to answer. “What's going on, Lise?” His tone naturally softened, imbued with a

gentle patience exclusively reserved for her. Regardless of the circumstances, his demeanor remained tender

and patient. Meanwhile, a wave of jealousy washed over Carrie, her heart tightening as she acknowledged her

envy—and yes, jealousy—towards Lise. Despite Kristopher’s recent infatuation for Carrie, Lise’s very presence

seemed to diminish her sense of worth. “You've been swamped with work lately, and we haven't even shared a

meal together. Once this film project is over, could we maybe visit Izrosa?” Lise’s voice, playful and sweet,

carried clearly through the phone in the otherwise silent room.

The incessant ringing of the phone drew a playful arch of Kristopher’s eyebrow as he teased, “What's wrong? Are

your legs too weak to carry you now?” His smile was uncharacteristic, a rare departure from his typically

reserved nature.

Carrie, on the other hand, was not in the mood for jokes, her features slowly hardening. As Kristopher caught the

chill in her glare, recognition dawned on him—he knew exactly who was on the other end of that call. His teasing

grin faded, replaced by concern as he softly said, “Carrie...”