Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 419

Chapter 412

On the night boat,

Music drifted through the air-soft, haunting, full of hidden longing and desire. In the dim, shadowy cabin, a man and a woman faced each other: she stood, cool and aloof; he sat, silent, head bowed.

They stayed locked in that uneasy stillness for a long moment.

Then Lysander suddenly gave a low laugh. He slowly lifted his head, and the lamplight caught the raw redness in his eyes. His gaze burned with a desperate restraint. Mila's icy detachment seemed unbearable to him, tearing open something deep inside, exposing the raw, fragile flesh beneath his hardened shell.

The sensation of being so vulnerable, so exposed, filled him with shame-a darkness washed over his face.

He stood up and took a hesitant step toward Mila.

Then he stopped.

Her voice broke the silence, low and hard to read, as if stating a fact: "Lysander, you love me." A few seconds passed before she repeated herself, this time with a hint of confusion-almost a question: "You love me?"

He looked down, his expression unreadable.

"You actually love me?"

It was almost a joke—a stray, curious provocation that, against all odds, seemed

to have landed on the truth. A complex surge of emotion left her wanting to laugh, but the sound refused to come. All she felt was bitter irony.

He loved her?

What a joke.

An absolutely ridiculous joke.

when she opened her mouth, all that came out was silence. Her lips moved, parted, closed again, and finally she managed a single sentence.

she could finish, his hand closed

burning into hers. He was smiling, but his voice was dark and

grip,

shook. For a moment, she tried to

sudden clarity, she said,

stared at her, jaw clenched, voice barely above a whisper, wild and broken: "I don't love you, Mila.

if saying them could numb the pain squeezing

more he said

his wavering voice cracked, choked with tears, his vision

this cruel

love her. He

out all

grew shallow, her face flushed. Her grip on his hand weakened,

Madman.

felt her body go limp beneath his hands. The haze of rage fell away and panic crashed in. He let go, catching her as she crumpled to the floor, frantically pressing

violent and

hand, she met his desperate, averted gaze and managed

"I believe you."

her voice hoarse. "I believe you now. You don't love me.

you really

her words as heavy as blows, "If you truly loved me, Lysander, I think I'd be sick to my

meant this kind of

"This is better."

be nothing between us but hatred. Forever. Nothing else, ever again." Her

the floor, holding her in his arms. Their bodies were close,

from his hand and shattered on

...

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