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My Coldhearted Ex demands a Remarriage by Eva Blackwood

Chapter 471
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Chapter 471:

Descending the stairs later, Carrie encountered the housekeeper presenting a dish of crab roe noodles. “Mrs.

Norris, it’s been tough to find good crab roe recently. | had to open several to get enough for a small bowl. I've

also made scrab meat rolls with avocado and a mango sauce as a starter.”

The mention of crab immediately cheered Carrie, who was fond of the delicacy. She hastened to the dining table,

pulling out a chair with enthusiasm. Yet, as the dish was set before her and she reached for her fork, a sudden

gag reflex overtook her.

Quickly turning aside, she grabbed a trash bin and retched, expelling only gastric juices.

The housekeeper swiftly fetched a glass of warm water for Carrie to rinse her mouth and offered her a tissue.

Carrie gestured dismissively, saying, “You enjoy the noodles. Just whip up splain noodles forwith a bit of

chili.”

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With a concerned tone, the housekeeper inquired, “Mrs. Norris, are you feeling alright? Do you wantto call

Dr. Molina?”

Carrie waved off the suggestion. “No, that won't be necessary. My stomach'’s just been sensitive lately, probably

just a minor stomach flu.”

After a pause, the housekeeper cautiously offered another suggestion. “Mrs. Norris, maybe it's worth checking

with a pregnancy test?”

Carrie froze, her glass halfway to her lips, and echoed in disbelief, “A pregnancy test?”

Carrie finished her dinner and retreated to the bedroom, craving a quiet evening. She sank into the plush sofa,

her plans to watch a classic foreign film dissolving as sleep claimed her.

Leaning against the soft cushions, she drifted off, her breathing steady and serene.

When Kristopher returned home, the first thing he saw was Carrie, fast asleep on the sofa. She was curled up in

cozy loungewear, the kind that made her look effortlessly charming. The room was warm, the air conditioning

off, and a fine sheen of sweat glimmered on her forehead. The soft light from the lamp kissed her skin, making

the tiny golden hairs on her arm shimmer faintly.

Kristopher’s gaze lingered for a moment, and then, almost without thinking, he reached out to touch her bare

calf. Her skin was cool to the touch, kissed by the faint breeze from the slightly open window—a refreshing

contrast to the summer heat. Unable to resist, he let his hand linger, gently wrapping it around her calf, his

touch warming the coolness of her skin.

Quietly, Kristopher shrugged off his suit jacket and laid it neatly over a chair. He bent down to lift her, his

movements deliberate and careful so as not to wake her. Just as he slid an arm under hers, Carrie’s eyelids

fluttered open.

Still caught in the haze of her dreams, she blinked sleepily. “You're back?” she murmured, her voice soft and full

of drowsy innocence.

Kristopher paused, her groggy charm bringing a smile to his lips. Letting her arm fall back gently, he teased,

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“What were you dreaming about? Looked like you were about to drool all over my expensive sofa.”

Carrie sat up abruptly, her sleepy eyes darting to the armrest. Then, on instinct, she wiped her mouth with the

back of her hand.

Realizing there was nothing there, she caught sight of Kristopher’s grin and narrowed her eyes. “You're

impossible!” she huffed, feigning annoyance.

Kristopher stretched out like a lounging cat, his voice tinged with amusement. “Guilty as charged. Got any plans

to fix that?”

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