?<strong>Chapter 362:</strong>
“I refuse to be that person again.” She paused, carefully considering her next words. “If you can’t ept that—”
Before she could finish, Kristopher raised his uninjured hand in surrender, cutting her off with a tired smile. “Alright, alright,” he muttered. “I say one thing, and you respond with ten. Why are you so fiery now?”
Leaning back, he lifted his bandaged arm and gave her a pitiful look. “I’m injured. I saved your life. Can’t you be a little more considerate of your poor, bedridden husband?” His lips were cracked and dry, and his voice was hoarse.
Carrie rolled her eyes but relented, ncing at his lips, cracked and dry. “Drink some water,” she said, nudging the cup closer. “Your lips are about to crack.”
Kristopher didn’t move, tilting his head back dramatically. “I have no strength.”
She sighed, exasperated but amused, and picked up the cup, holding it to his lips. He took a small sip, only to grimace. “It’s hot,” heined.
“Hot?” Carrie frowned. “I just tried it. It’s warm at best.”
“Don’t believe me? Try it yourself,” Kristopher challenged, holding the cup out to her.
Carrie narrowed her eyes but humored him, leaning forward to take a sip. Just as the cup neared her lips, Kristopher moved it aside and, in one swift motion, pulled her in by the back of her head. His lips imed hers in a kiss—firm, insistent, and full of unspoken emotion.
“Not here,” Carrie mumbled against his lips, her hands pressing against his chest in weak protest. “What if the nursees in?”
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But Kristopher didn’t let her go. His uninjured arm slid around her waist, keeping her close as he whispered hoarsely, “Don’t move. My arm hurts.”
The excuse was ridiculous, but it worked. Carrie stopped resisting, her hands softening against him. Slowly, her fingers slipped behind his back, pulling him closer.
His tongue parted her lips effortlessly, the kiss deepening as the sterile walls of the hospital room seemed to blur around them. Outside the door, Oliver paused mid-step. His hand hovered over the doorknob when he caught sight of the scene through the ss panel. His brow furrowed, but a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. He backed away quietly, smiling to himself.
“Was wrong with Willow?” That evening, once Kristopher hadpleted his anti-inmmatory injection, he stood up, ready to leave. Carrie, feeling a little concerned, softly suggested, “Maybe you should stay another night, just to be on the safe side?” Kristopher gave her a casual look, a yful glint in his eye. “Are you suggesting that we… might have some fun?” He let his words trail off deliberately, a mischievous smile curling at the corners of his mouth. Carrie immediately grasped his implication about something more intimate happening in the hospital room. Meanwhile, Oliver, focused on packing,pletely missed the underlying meaning of Kristopher’s words and bluntly asked, “So, what do you n to do, Mrs. Norris?” Kristopher’s smile widened, and he echoed Oliver’s words with a teasing twist. “Exactly. Mrs. Norris, what will you do?” Carrie shot him an irritated look, clearly annoyed. It was only then that Oliver noticed their expressions seemed off, realizing toote that he had misspoken. He immediately fell silent and moved aside, eager to avoid making the situation more ufortable. When they finally arrived back at Bayview Vi, it was almost midnight, and the ce was eerily quiet. As they got closer, Carrie heard raised voicesing from the front door. She rolled down the car window to hear better and then turned to Kristopher, asking, “Did someone stop by today?” Kristopher shook his head, his voice t. “I didn’t invite anyone.” As they spoke, the car pulled into the yard, and they saw Willow standing at the entrance, apanied by a disheveled-looking man.
That evening, once Kristopher had finished his anti-inmmatory injection, he stood up, ready to leave.
Carrie, feeling a little concerned, softly suggested, “Maybe you should stay another night, just to be on the safe side?”
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