Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 465

Mila understood immediately.

There are always those people in the world-people with plenty of money and plenty of time, who do things purely out of passion. This little private bistro was probably run by just such a person. And more often than not, people like that do things exceptionally well.

The thought made her all the more eager for the meal to come.

She was a true foodie, after all.

To her surprise, the owner and chef turned out to be a young man. He greeted Forrest with a nod, gave Mila a polite acknowledgment, and then disappeared into the kitchen without even asking for their order.

"The menu here depends entirely on the chef's mood," Forrest explained with a smile. "It changes every day-whatever the chef feels like making, that's what you get."

"What a playful approach," Mila chuckled.

She understood this mindset well. In her own work as an artist and designer, she also followed her instincts and personal style. She admired people who lived the same way, never seeing it as odd—if anything, she found it refreshing and delightful.

They waited a good while before the chef finally emerged, carrying plates of beautifully arranged food. It wasn't just for their table; Leonard, who had come in after them and was sitting a little farther away, received the same treatment.

The chef seemed unconcerned about any lingering drama between his customers.

Once you stepped through his door,

you were his guest.

Soon, the table was covered with a spread of familiar comfort food-some dishes artfully plated, others thrown together in a more rustic fashion. Clearly, even the presentation depended on the chef's mood.

for a glistening dish of caramelized sweet potatoes. As she lifted a piece, a shimmering thread of sugar stretched all the way

to a soft, almost creamy center, sticky-sweet and fragrant. Her eyes lit up in delight, and in that moment, she finally understood why Forrest

her kind

another place that made caramelized sweet potatoes quite so perfectly.

to find such an authentic, delicious version here—it was a revelation, pure

didn't

she enjoyed it, Forrest's smile deepened. He slipped on a pair of gloves and slowly began peeling shrimp for her, murmuring, “You should try

a muffled "Mmm-hmm," mouth still full of sweet

finally protested, "I can peel my own shrimp,

his gloves and starting on his own food. He knew Mila well-he understood exactly how close he could get without crossing

breaking down her defenses, bit by

built on respect and equality, something lasting

was key-something Forrest

when she imagined getting married. He believed

things couldn't be exactly as they

the menu changes every day, it's really just luck if you get your favorite. Maybe I'll charm the chef into teaching me the recipe. That way, anytime you want it, I can

chef really teach you?" Mila blurted out,

persistence, anything's

lessons?" she

you. But honestly, it doesn't

for the rest of my life," Forrest replied, utterly straightforward, catching Mila completely

"...," Mila sighed helplessly.

man had only gotten bolder. He didn't dodge around

was always reminding her, in