Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 407

Chapter 400

The paintbrush danced across the canvas.

Crows scattered through the sky, gnarled branches clawed at the darkness, and the moon was devoured by thick clouds-on the canvas, a landscape shrouded in the gloom of night.

It was a landscape born from Felicity's brush.

All Mila could do was imagine Felicity's inner world, slipping into her state of mind, mimicking every stroke and style. She poured out the despair and terror buried deep in Felicity's soul, capturing it again, line by line, for Cossio to see.

Sometimes-

Art speaks to the soul more deeply than words ever could.

In the dimly lit studio, a woman veiled in gold released the man's hand from the brush. She stood as motionless as a marionette, her gaze fixed silently on the man beside her.

His breathing grew heavier.

He reached out with a trembling hand, his fingers hovering above the crows struggling to take flight on the canvas. For a long time, he was silent. Then, his voice broke the stillness, low and hoarse with pain.

"Darling, does it hurt that much?"

He understood the painting.

Mila said nothing.

She knew he wasn't speaking to her, and he didn't expect an answer. Still, just as he'd said... it did hurt.

From the day she married into the Montgomery family,

From the very first moment she saw Felicity-

She sensed immediately that beneath that gentle woman's exterior was a soul battered and bruised by pain.

first, Mila didn't understand.

only a few days here, she realized where Felicity's suffering came from,

she

standing before her was undoubtedly at the heart

up the

tip hovered over the neck of a crow. Sensing her intention, the man's hand closed painfully around her wrist. Mila ignored the ache, pushing through the pain as she dragged the brush in a deep, stark line across the crow's

-Severed.

it felt as if the bones might snap. The brush fell to the floor with a

long while, the pressure

let go, gently rubbing her bruised skin, even lowering his head to kiss it softly, blowing a cool

sad when you're with me? What can I do to make

voice was

he guided her to the wound on the crow's neck, quickly painting

Now,

crow's beheading, looked almost like a few wayward leaves had fallen on its

Behind the veil,

eyes were sharp

still a wound. Hiding

cover it up,

have the courage to face

stood up abruptly, and walked straight out. Suddenly, she felt suffocated her

stay in the studio

off her veil and hurried downstairs to her room. She made straight for the bathroom, clutching her chest as she retched over the sink, fighting the wave of nausea and pain, finally sliding

couldn't keep up the

stepping

especially when those feelings weren't as foreign as she

every emotional replay, was like carving a fresh wound in

It was suffocating.

She had to keep up the pretense, no matter how much it hurt. Pushing down the roiling feelings, she dragged

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