Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?
Chapter 289
Chapter 281
Certainly! Here is your culturally localized English adaptation, following your guidelines:
"What is it that I want to know?"
Giselle hesitated for a moment before clicking into the message. The file was extensive, packed with written details—and photos.
By the time she'd scrolled through everything, her face had gone ghostly pale. Her grip on her phone was so tight it looked as though she might shatter the
screen.
This was exactly what she'd wanted to know.
Every detail from seven years ago, all the secrets and tangled history between Lysander, Mila, and Forrest during her time abroad-it was all laid out, stark and undeniable.
She didn't know who sent the information, but it matched her own research, only with even more excruciating detail.
Almost all of it was true.
So...
"You lied to me."
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Lysander, you actually lied to me."
The words had barely left her lips before she snapped. The phone flew from her hand and smashed into the wall, the screen exploding in a spray of glass.
But even that didn't come close to quelling the rage inside her.
Like a woman possessed, Giselle tore through the room, ripping and smashing everything within reach. Her eyes were bloodshot, burning with venom and hysteria.
"Lysander! How dare you lie to me!"
the floor amidst the wreckage, gasping for breath. One trembling hand covered her face as she sobbed, her shoulders shaking. When she finally looked up, there was
make my life hell, then don't think you'll
will
found her backup phone. She took a screenshot of one
the person in this photo
this address tomorrow and meet me. Come
next day-Bamboo Grove, art
Julian how to paint when her
On the screen was a photo of a pair of hands bruised,
sender's last name
Giselle Harvey?
doubted the parents would
why would Giselle send her something like
the photo, Mila felt a knot
a reason-it had to be
Someone important.
Who could it be?
Giselle's number,
and again—each time the call was declined. It was clear Giselle would only talk
Should she go?
The next day.
café in
in a private booth, a single cup
printed
her guest hadn't arrived. Giselle
the door swung open. Mila stepped in, wearing a wide-brimmed
and said coldly, "I told you to
at all," Mila replied, settling into the seat across from her, face expressionless.
it was Giselle who'd
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