Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 8

After discussing their impending divorce for what felt like hours, Mila and Miranda finally left the cozy bar around ten in the evening.

As soon as they reached the entrance, Mila came to an abrupt halt.

"What's up?" Miranda asked, stepping out from behind her.

"It's Lysander's car."

Mila pointed to a sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom parked diagonally across the street, its license plate boasting the number 99999.

She knew it all too well.

Just as they were puzzling over why Lysander's car was parked there, the rear door swung open, and out stepped a striking woman in a cropped pink puffer jacket.

Her long, wavy chestnut hair cascaded messily over her shoulders, her enchanting doe eyes glistening with unshed tears, and her cheeks were flushed even in the biting winter air. Her steps were unsteady, and her jacket hung open, giving her a somewhat disheveled appearance.

Something was definitely off.

Lysander's old flame from way back. They never expected to run

sensing their gaze, glanced over and, upon spotting Mila, hastily covered her smudged lips

emerged from the

the collar and sported a lipstick smear; his lips were a deep red, as though stained by something. His narrow, fox-like

love in their marriage, Mila knew Lysander well enough to

in that car

he couldn't even wait to get home. Meanwhile, it had been nearly a year since there had been any intimacy between

had this started between them? How long had they been

the doorway of the bar, Lysander hadn't even noticed her. He was too busy steadying the wobbly Giselle, leaning in close to murmur

heads were nearly touching, exuding

outrage over her friend's

quickly held her back, speaking coolly, "Don't make a scene. I've already

lawyer, knew that a public confrontation could harm her career, and there was no sense in jeopardizing it over such a sordid

guard, and she was momentarily stunned.

Her anger was swiftly replaced by a wave of