My coldhearted ex demands a remarriage - Chapter 253

Chapter 253:

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Her thoughts wandered to her first year of college—the rainy day she’d missed her bus to Esterhall. Annoyed and stranded, she had stepped out of the station, only to cross paths with him. Without saying much, he had simply offered her a ride back. But that was years ago. Too many years. Surely, this was just a coincidence. Gracie and Danna had always been well-loved.

It wasn’t impossible for an old friend to drop by, was it? Brushing the thought aside, Carrie spoke with practiced nonchalance. “Probably one of my mom’s old friends.”

Camille wrinkled her nose, skepticism written all over her face. “He didn’t look ‘old friend’ old to me. I’d say he looked… quite dashing!”

“From a blurry glimpse of his back? Come on,” Carrie replied, rolling her eyes.

Albin snorted, crossing his arms. “For all you know, he’s just one of those ‘looks-good-from-the-back’ types. Turn him around, and he’s probably some middle-aged guy losing a battle with his hairline.”

Camille threw him a sidelong glance of pure disdain. “A back-view charmer is still leagues better than you—plain from every single angle.”

“Me? Plain?!” Albin’s voice jumped an octave in indignation.

Kristopher’s cold tone sliced through their squabble like a knife. “If you’re going to argue, take it somewhere else.”

Usually the joker of the group, Albin shrank under Kristopher’s glare, hastily pasting on a sheepish grin as he mimed zipping his lips.

For once, Camille didn’t push back, her expression softening with respect. “Show some decorum, Albin. This is a cemetery.”

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Albin made no retort, though he couldn’t resist pulling a childish face behind Camille’s back.

The group approached Danna’s tombstone. Kristopher set down a bouquet in front of the grave, bowing solemnly to the photograph etched into the stone. “Danna, it’s been a long time.”

A wave of emotion swept through Carrie. Kristopher had only accompanied her to visit once, shortly after they got married. Now, on the brink of divorce, this would likely be their final visit together.

Camille and Albin took their turns bowing, each murmuring their introductions. As they straightened, Albin tugged Camille’s sleeve, leaning in to whisper, “I’m starving. Let’s find somewhere to eat.”

Camille gave him an exasperated look, but he exaggerated a series of winks. “Carrie,” Camille said, taking the cue, “we’ll scout ahead for a place to eat.”

“You stay here and talk to your mom.”

Carrie nodded. “Okay.” She turned to Kristopher. “You should go with them.”

Kristopher glanced toward the horizon, his gaze distant. “The view’s better up here. I’ll check out Esterhall’s layout from this spot.”

Without protest, Carrie let him be. The others left, their figures retreating down the path, leaving her alone in front of the gravestone.

She sank onto the stone steps, brushing off a fine layer of dust before unwrapping the other bouquet of roses. There was no card. No note.

Hugging her knees, Carrie whispered into the quiet, “Mom, I’m getting a divorce. I’ve learned the hard way that love isn’t some equation where effort equals success. Sometimes, you have to accept when to let go, even if it feels like giving up. Life’s too long to only keep looking forward. Sometimes, you have to glance back, too. But no one ever taught me that. I had to figure it out the hard way—by falling, over and over. I haven’t taken good care of myself or Grandma. I’m sorry, Mom.”

She wiped away her tears, letting everything she had been holding back finally spill out.

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