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.

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

fragrant. Her eyes

her kind

once, back when she and Forrest were in college in Kingsford, hunting for hidden culinary gems. That restaurant had closed down soon after, and she'd never found another place that made caramelized sweet potatoes quite so perfectly. She'd even tried to make them herself, but the flavor was never quite right. It had turned into one of those cravings that lingered for years,

never expected to find such an authentic, delicious version here—it was a revelation, pure and

didn't stop

of gloves and slowly began peeling shrimp for her, murmuring, “You should

mouth still

another bite, she finally protested, "I can peel my own shrimp, you know. You should

his gloves and starting on his own food. He knew Mila well-he understood exactly how close he could get without crossing her boundaries. Whenever he edged a little further, he always pulled back at just the right moment, giving her the space she

down her defenses, bit by

respect and equality, something lasting and

was

managed, once before, to be the first person Mila thought of when she imagined getting married. He

exactly as they were in

Mila's bowl. "I knew you loved caramelized sweet potatoes. As soon as I found this place, thought of you. But since the menu changes every day, it's really just luck if you get your favorite.

chef really teach you?" Mila blurted out, her mind jumping

persistence,

me in your lessons?" she asked. She wanted

doesn't

my life," Forrest replied, utterly

"...," Mila sighed helplessly.

only gotten bolder. He didn't dodge around her feelings anymore-he gave her no chance to

always reminding her, in one