Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 372

He stepped into the bedroom.

Adrian was sitting on the floor with his back to the door, surrounded by broken model pieces scattered across the carpet. Among them was the shredded remains of a lantern, once painted with little animals.

Lysander remembered.

Nathaniel's young nephew had just started school a while back and had gotten along with Adrian rather well; he'd even given Adrian a lantern decorated with animals. Thinking back, it was probably Mila who painted it before giving it to Adrian as a gift.

Adrian had loved it at the time-he'd even found a special box to keep it safe.

But now, it lay torn to bits among the mess.

He must be truly upset.

Lysander didn't rush to comfort the heartbroken child. Instead, he pulled over a chair and sat down, looking down at Adrian's turned back with a calm, unreadable expression.

"Have you been crying?"

"I haven't!" Adrian shot back instantly, though his voice trembled.

"Are you upset?"

"I'm not!"

"It's alright to cry if you're sad. This time, you can let it out."

"I don't want to cry."

Adrian insisted stubbornly, but his resolve cracked as soft, choked sobs escaped him. After a long moment, he finally whispered, voice raw with hurt, "Dad, does Mom not like me anymore? Does she not want me?"

"...Of course not."

"But she doesn't comfort me anymore. She goes to other kids-instead of me, she goes to that Julian! I hate him!"

child," Lysander replied

"But Julian called her 'Mom', and she didn't correct him. She went to comfort him, to

his chair, his gaze settling on Adrian's messy hair. His voice was measured, almost gentle. "And if she did betray

Adrian didn't answer.

I

voice was barely a whisper. "But she's my

decides to leave and you never see her again?" Lysander's tone remained

"I don't want that!"

his father's, were wide and

front of him, gazing down as he gently ruffled Adrian's hair. His voice dropped low. "Adrian, you're still too small. There's nothing you can

batting his father's hand

out a quiet

I was your age, I could do a lot already. At the very

"Adrian."

shouting, lashing out, crying-when you have no strength behind them, they're useless.

you can't afford

eyes filled

words. “Dad, can't you give me

"Of course I can."

help you once or twice. Do you really want to come running to Dad for help every single time something happens?"

great-grandfather told you, too. Have you just

"I haven't!"

you know

his

nor did he leave. He simply picked up the laptop Leonard had brought

the room were the faint clicking of keys and the soft rustle of Adrian's fingers sifting through the broken model

was the way father and son had always interacted a quiet, gentle

the

in from the hallway, breaking the unusual calm. “Sir, Ms.