Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 366

Early morning. The doorbell rang.

Mila opened the door to find Forrest standing on her porch, tall and graceful in a crisp white suit. There was an air of quiet elegance about him, and for a moment she just stared—she'd been wondering when to pay him a visit, but hadn't expected him to beat her to it.

"Are you... okay?" she managed, fingers tightening on the handle as she took in his handsome face, drawn and tired around the edges.

"No," he replied, his smile carrying a trace of bitterness. "I miss you, Mimi. I waited for you all night at the Willow Lane Café, but you never came. Tell me―am I too late again?"

"...No." Hearing the weariness in his voice, Mila felt a pang in her chest. She stepped aside, holding the door open wider. "Come in."

"Would you like something to drink?" she asked as she led the way toward the kitchen. "Coffee, like always?"

“Just milk. No sugar." Forrest followed her at a leisurely pace, adding casually, "And make it hot, please."

Mila smiled, glancing back at him. "I know. No sugar, always hot. Some things never change."

He'd had the same habit for years.

"Can I use a plate?" Forrest's mood seemed to lift a little as he waved a paper bag with a small flourish. "I thought I'd come by early, figured you might not have had breakfast yet. Picked up some pastries from Sweet Bite on the way."

Mila's eyes lit up. "Sweet Bite? Their pastries are impossible to get! Every time I go, there's a line around the block, and half the time they're sold out."

She'd lived in Kingsford for years and always loved that little bakery-if only it weren't so wildly popular.

my luck," Forrest said with a small smile. "Today, there was no

pastries, coffee, and a pot of tea. Sheer white curtains

sat across from each

warm brown sugar melting on her tongue, the sweetness flooding her senses and settling somewhere deep

his coffee quietly, his gaze lingering on her profile, tracing the gentle curve of her cheekbones and the delicate arch of her brows, every glance filled with wordless

was soft, peaceful. For a while, neither spoke; they simply shared the quiet

her thoughts, finally spoke. "These last few days... If Lysander's

if it weren't for you, it was

sat in silence for a

last, Mila looked up, her voice hesitant. "Your hand... how

he smiled softly, extending his arms so his hands rested palms up in front

like I'm healed,

joint, feeling the warmth of his skin. His hands were long and elegant, the bones smooth

rising on the backs of his hands, warm to

voice was rough, almost a

hands for too long. She pulled away, flustered. "S-sorry. They look much better

added softly, "You know about it, don't you? But I promise it's over.

bit her lip.

He lifted his hand and gently wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, his voice

sorry,"

who should apologize. If only I'd

"If we'd never met, you never would have gone