Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 438

Chapter 432

"Ma'am."

A man's familiar voice echoed through the haze of her mind. Mila blinked, her

eyelids heavy, her vision flooded with harsh, sterile white. The curtains fluttered in the gentle breeze.

She was lying in a hospital bed.

Slowly, Mila sat upright, glancing around. No one was there. The room was silent but for her own breathing, and her memories began to drift back.

It all came flooding in.

She and Lysander had gone to that party.

Then-gunshots.

Her fingers tightened, clutching the crisp white sheets, twisting them into creases. She remembered—so much blood. No matter how desperately she pressed, nothing could stop it. The body beneath her trembling hands had gone cold, growing steadily, impossibly cold.

Suddenly, the door swung open.

"Ma'am, you're awake."

Leonard hurried in, catching sight of her sitting on the bed, dazed and silent. He rushed closer, concern etching his features. "Are you feeling any pain? Is there anything wrong?"

He pressed the call button for the nurse.

Mila shook her head, slow and deliberate.

It was strange. She didn't seem to feel anything-not pain, not sorrow, not even relief. Mostly, it was a hollow, surreal detachment, as if everything she saw and heard was muffled by an invisible layer of water.

Everything was blurred.

Wait-right before she lost consciousness, she'd seen Francis, and Leonard... Did they make it? Were they safe?

She tried to speak, to ask.

"Ah..."

rooting her in place. It took her a long moment

chest tightened with

was wrong. Forgetting the call button, he dashed out, returning moments later with a doctor

doctor shook his head. "This is a case of psychological muteness. Medication won't help. Only time and her own mind- can resolve it. Try to keep her emotions steady. Let things run their course, and

doctor left, silence settled over the

had panicked, but now a strange sense of calm had taken over. She suppressed the instinct to speak and gestured for

*How is he?*

taut, his expression

sending them billowing against the white- washed walls. It was a long time before Leonard finally found his voice, hoarse and strained. "Ma'am, I'm sorry. He...

*Gone?*

gaze. His fists clenched at his sides. "The funeral...

Funeral?

So, he was dead?

Really dead?

crept up from her heart, spreading through her limbs, dragging her down until she collapsed back onto the bed. Her eyes

He's gone.

confusion on Mila's face felt like a knife to Leonard's heart. He crouched down beside the bed, gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles

came, was

broken.

you're hurting, ma'am, it's okay to cry.

Don't look like that.

deceiving her, using her, hurting

Why should she grieve?

didn't feel sad. She didn't feel happy. She felt... nothing at all. Or maybe not nothing-just

wanted

A few days later.

clad in a simple black dress. She cradled a pale marble urn in her hands, face expressionless, eyes as empty and still as a

she couldn't

in the end, everyone ended up the same. Just a handful of ashes,

Still...

phone

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