My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage by Eva Blackwood

Chapter 1030:
But when eight o’clock passed and no reply came, he began to second-guess. He didn’t know her daily habits well, but he had
seen her out and about early before—she wasn’t someone who slept in.
Had she stayed up late? She wasn’t working anymore; she had handed off her responsibilities weeks ago. So if it wasn’t work,
then what had kept her awake?
His mind wandered, unbidden. He pictured her—her delicate figure bathed in soft light, laughter curling low in her throat. Then
Daxton appeared beside her, close and tangled together deep into the night.
Kristopher’s imagination spun recklessly forward, conjuring images he didn’t want—and yet couldn’t stop. Scenes so vivid, so
familiar, they almost felt like memories instead of fantasies.
Kristopher snapped himself out of it, shaking his head hard. No, he told himself, she was staying with the Morrison family. She
wouldn’t dare bring her boyfriend home, let alone share a bed under their roof. Besides, she was newly pregnant. It wouldn’t be

safe. Would it?
Still, his thoughts drifted, restless and unbidden, until any lingering sleepiness had vanished. Giving up, he got up, washed
quickly, and prepared for work.
Kristopher had just opened his laptop when a notification blinked across his phone screen—Carrie’s profile picture flashing into
view.
He abandoned the mouse, picked up his phone, and tapped the alert. Carrie had posted a photo: a simple breakfast spread,
captioned, “A lovingly homemade breakfast by my cousin.” A red heart emoji punctuated the end.
Kristopher zoomed in, his eyes narrowing on a detail in the corner—a hand, slender and elegant, unmistakably masculine. The
cufflink on the wrist gleamed under the morning light. He recognized it instantly—a custom piece worth hundreds of thousands,
one Daxton favored above all others.
Kristopher’s gaze lingered a second longer before he looked away, his grip on the phone tightening until his knuckles blanched.
She’d clearly been awake for a while. Yet, she hadn’t responded to his messages.
헦헼픂헿헰헲 헶픀 헻헼픁 헵헲헿헲 → gⱯ헅헇허ν헍햊헅픀⍰햼허헺

His fingers tapped idly against the desk, mind circling the same question—had she missed his messages, or had she simply
chosen to ignore them? He turned the thought over and over, finding no answer that satisfied him. Almost without realizing it, his
thumb slid to Carrie’s chat window.
He opened it, paused, thought of a dozen ways to begin—then abandoned them all and simply typed: “Did you see my
messages?”
Carrie’s reply came swiftly. “Yes.”
Frustration coiled in Kristopher’s gut, sharp and hot. He tapped out a second message. “Since you saw them, why didn’t you
reply?”
Carrie’s answer was calm, almost indifferent. “I didn’t think it needed a reply.”
For a long moment, Kristopher simply stared at the screen.
Then, with a hard breath, he locked his phone and tossed it carelessly onto the desk, the thud echoing in the quiet room.
Meanwhile, at the Morrison residence, the mood was a world away from Kristopher’s silent frustration. Daxton had arrived early
and was warmly welcomed by the Morrisons, who insisted he stay for breakfast.
He didn’t simply sit and chat; instead, he stayed close to Carrie, peeling eggs, spreading jam, moving with easy, elegant
efficiency.
.
.
.