My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage - Chapter 117

Chapter 117:

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“Alright, Carrie,” Albin responded promptly, nudging Kristopher forward, the boxes in his hands adding to the awkward shuffle.

Initially, Albin had thought of Carrie as a modest, unassuming housewife. However, after several encounters, his perception had shifted dramatically. Although typically gentle and demure, Carrie revealed herself to be a woman of spirited determination, mirroring Kristopher’s own fiery temperament.

It was notable how well Carrie seemed to be managing since her separation from Kristopher, a fact that Albin found quite remarkable.

The trio stepped into the elevator, and as it ascended, the atmosphere grew thick with unspoken tensions. The few seconds it took to reach their floor stretched into what felt like an eternity.

Albin, who usually played the peacemaker, found himself unable to bridge the icy gap between the two.

As the elevator doors slid open, Albin was the first to step out, placing the items down with swift efficiency. He checked his phone, a smile breaking over his face as he read an incoming message. “Kristopher, Carrie, something urgent has come up, so I must head off. You two carry on.”

With those words, he tapped the elevator button and slipped back inside as the doors whisked shut behind him.

Left alone in the hallway, Carrie and Kristopher stood meters apart, deliberately avoiding each other’s gaze. They faced away from each other, the air between them charged with an awkward tension that neither seemed willing to address.

Exiting the elevator and opening the door to her apartment, Carrie paused momentarily, shifting aside to allow room. “Thank you. Just place them by the door,” she instructed, her tone polite yet distant.

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While she mulled over the best way to suggest Kristopher should leave, he had already settled the items and sprawled out on the sofa with ease. Glancing back at her lingering near the entrance, he remarked casually, “I’m thirsty.”

His tone carried a hint of entitlement as he continued, “Considering all the effort I’ve put in today, you wouldn’t refuse me a drink, would you?”

With a frosty expression, Carrie slowly shut the door and moved toward the kitchen, intent on boiling some water. However, her hand paused as it grazed the kettle. A realization struck her—she was no longer obliged to cater to him. On days when cramps tormented her, she didn’t even pamper herself with a warm drink. Why would she extend this courtesy to a man who was practically a stranger now?

Reconsidering, she pivoted and grabbed a cola and a bottle of mineral water from the refrigerator. Approaching Kristopher, she extended the mineral water with evident reluctance.

He scowled, making no move to accept it. “Cold drinks upset my stomach,” he grumbled.

Carrie’s shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug. “That’s all I have,” she retorted, her voice tinged with impatience.

His sudden fussiness was a stark contrast to his old self, who thrived on iced coffee during grueling workdays. Carrie’s frequent reminders, meant to be helpful, only grated on his nerves.

With a nonchalant gaze fixed on the cola in her grasp, Kristopher spoke with a light, teasing tone. “I think I’ll help myself to that.”

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