Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 342

After New Year's Eve,

A strange, gentle equilibrium settled between them.

Mila stopped going near the darkened room; Lysander no longer swept her into his arms to tease or torment. They began to resemble any ordinary couple- perhaps even a married pair-sharing a bed, murmuring good morning and good night, eating together, reading side by side, and drifting through endless conversations.

It was a rare, fragile peace.

But one thing hadn't changed: Mila still wasn't allowed to leave the villa.

Whenever she brought it up, Lysander always had a fresh excuse he couldn't bear to let her out of his sight, he worried for her safety, someone out there meant her harm. His reasons grew stranger the more she pressed. And if she insisted, a look would flicker across his face—one that frightened her into silence every time.

Eventually, Mila's days blurred together. She grew sluggish, always tired, appetite fading, energy draining away. She leaned on Lysander more and more, until even the desire to go outside slipped away.

She wilted, day by day.

One afternoon, not long after lunch, drowsiness dragged her into sleep. Lysander quietly called in the family doctor.

"Mr. Montgomery, the young lady is pregnant. Judging from her condition, nearly two months along now."

"Mr. Montgomery?"

Lysander jolted, as if waking from a trance.

He looked lost for a moment, then drew a slow, shaky breath, questioning the doctor over and over until the man nearly lost patience. Only when assured that everything was progressing smoothly did Lysander finally relax.

Before the doctor left, Lysander sent Leonard to quietly remind him to keep this visit discreet.

doctor had always attended to his mother and was known for his skill, but bringing him

down beside Mila, gathering her gently into his arms. Half-asleep,

carrying his

Their child.

wrong, but it

He needed this child.

About a week

he went, he

please, don't let me

her. Now, it had to be Mila who came to him. When Mila woke, she called out for

he might be in another room, she slipped on her slippers and

He was gone.

drained the color from her face. She pressed her aching

Lysander would be angry, and hurried

It opened without resistance.

Mila froze.

courtyard stretched wide and empty. The winter landscape was bleak, sleet and rain swirling in the air, the cold wind carrying the scent of

as she reached the threshold, she hesitated and shrank

angry. And if he

stabbed behind her

did she stagger back inside. Desperate, she searched the house from top to bottom until she

She called Lysander.

No answer.

felt eerily familiar. She didn't dare dwell on it.

Again?

of her phone cut through the silence. She answered without thinking, only to be assaulted by a woman's coarse, venomous voice, each word pounding