?<strong>Chapter 534:</strong>


    “Carrie, Camille’s inside getting her makeup done. Let me take you to her.”


    Carrie’s observant gaze took in his transformed appearance. His once mboyant hairstyle was now a neat ck crop, lending him an unexpected air of youthful groundedness. The carefree attitude he once brandished had softened, reced by a hint of domestic warmth.


    Slipping into the provided slippers, she followed him inside. The apartment’s aesthetic echoed the Bayview Vi but with a lighter gray palette that felt less austere. Scattered throughout the space were mismatched decorations—dolls, anime figures—a clear testament to Camille’s yful influence.


    Four professional makeup artists had spent hours with Camille, who had meticulously tried six different looks before finally selecting her bridesmaid makeup for the wedding.


    As the artists departed, Camille dramatically flopped onto the sofa, pulling Carrie beside her. “Darling!” she called to Albin, raising her hand theatrically. “Fetch the chilled crayfish and beer from the fridge.”


    Turning to Carrie with an infectious smile, Camille raved about the beer. “This is incredible—it’s like a fizzy fruit soda. You can barely tell it’s alcoholic!”


    “I can’t drink,” Carrie replied simply. “I’m pregnant.”


    Camille’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”


    Carrie nodded with a soft smile. “I had it confirmed at the hospital.”


    Camille’s expression shifted from shock to indignation. She smacked the sofa with enough force to make it shake. “And you still drove yourself here? What on earth is Kristopher doing? Why hasn’t he got a driver taking you everywhere?”


    At that moment, Albin returned from the kitchen, a tray of crayfish in his hands. Hearing Camille’s words, he nearly dropped it. He quickly set the tray on the coffee table and sat down across from Camille, giving her arm a discreet nudge in an attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere.


    Camille swatted his hand away without missing a beat. “Oh, quit it. Just because a wedding’sing up doesn’t mean I’m going to keep my mouth shut.”


    Carrie, sensing Albin’s growing panic, interjected in a soft voice. “I haven’t told him yet—or anyone else, for that matter.” Her gaze dropped to her hands, her expression unreadable.


    Albin let out a visible sigh of relief and shot Camille a pointed look. “See? I told you. Kristopher wouldn’t just ignore something like this.”


    Then, as if struck by inspiration, his eyes lit up. “Wait—are you nning to tell him on the wedding day? Like, a big surprise?”


    The idea gave Carrie pause. She hadn’t thought much about how or when to share the news. But maybe the wedding day really would be the perfect moment. She nodded slightly. “Yes.”


    Albin pped his hands together, grinning. “Brilliant! Pregnant women love sour stuff, right? I’ll grab you some juice and mango crepes.” He sprang to his feet, turning back to Camille as he headed to the kitchen. “Honey, I’ll join you for crayfish and beerter.”


    Camille leaned against Carrie, resting her head on thetter’s shoulder with a yful pout. “Forget it. I’ll eat whatever Carrie’s having.”


    Albin shot her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.” He returned the tray to the fridge with theatrical obedience.


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