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.

way back. They never expected to run into

spotting Mila, hastily covered her smudged lips

emerged

at the collar and sported a lipstick smear; his lips were a deep red, as though stained

Mila knew Lysander well enough to recognize he was clearly

happened in that

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

between them? How long had they been deceiving

the bar, Lysander hadn't even noticed her. He

nearly touching, exuding an

fools!" Miranda exploded, fueled by outrage over her friend's betrayal. She was ready to march over and

back, speaking coolly, "Don't

career, and there was no sense in jeopardizing

calm resolve caught Miranda off guard, and she was momentarily stunned. "You had the presence of

say more when she felt Mila's hand trembling against hers. Her anger