?<strong>Chapter 415:</strong>
Now, things were different. Watching him take care of her, cooking and ensuring herfort, she felt a sense of equality she had never experienced before. She no longer felt anxious or small.
Instead, she felt loved. She realized something in that quiet moment: love wasn’t about repayment or sacrifice. She hadn’t known how to nurture their rtionship. She had ced herself in a position of submission, thinking she could repay him from there. It was about bnce—a mutual connection where both people stood on equal ground.
The Norris family didn’t need maids or servants; Kristopher didn’t need a servant or a martyr. He needed a partner. Her lips curved into a faint smile as she turned back toward the bedroom to freshen up.
Carrie had just finished getting ready when her phone buzzed on the bedside table.
As Carrie read the message, the smile faded from her lips. The message was from the scriptpany, using her of giarism. They insisted she refund her past payments and face a heavy fine for breaching the contract.
She hesitated for a moment, her fingers hovering over the screen, before she quickly typed, “What exactly am I used of giarizing? Is there some misunderstanding here?”
After a long wait, the reply came: “You know what you copied. Ruby introduced you to us, and we don’t want to make this ufortable for anyone.”
Carrie’s response was swift and sharp: “Either show me the proof or take me to court.” Impatience shed across her face.
Right as she was about to set her phone aside and go downstairs for dinner, another notification came in—this time, it was a screenshot of an old blog post. The post was from years ago, back when blogs were all the rage, and it had been written under her pseudonym, Katrina. She had borrowed some nostalgic poetry from that post to use as lyrics for a few songs in the script.
G a lno ve ls . is where the magic begins
Back then, she thought her earlier work meshed well with the script’s tone, so she had adapted it. Carrie let out a helpless chuckle, realizing her secret identity had been exposed.
She quickly sent a message confessing she was Katrina, but the moment she hit send, a red exmation mark appeared. Her messaging app shed a notification: “The recipient has refused to ept your message.”
She had been blocked?
Carrie stared at her screen, utterly baffled by the other person’s strange reaction. What a mess! But as the moment passed, her initial anxiety faded. She had been concerned this might involve others, but now that she realized the “giarized” content was her own work, she quickly dismissed the issue.
Pulling herself together, Carrie made her way downstairs and found that Kristopher had already set the table with a variety of dishes—both spicy and mild—to cater to their tastes.
As she looked at the spread, she thought to herself, “Love isn’t about giving up parts of yourself—it’s about finding a way to appreciate each other’s differences and making it work.”
With a yful glint in her eye, she sat down at the table and teased, “Well, Mr. Norris, if you keep this up, you’ll soon be the definition of the ideal husband.”
Kristopher sat down next to her and, with a smile, ced a rib into her bowl. “I owe it all to my amazing wife,” he said, his tone light but full of appreciation.
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