Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 522

Eldermere Airport, England.

Miranda insisted on seeing Mila and Forrest off. She couldn't—and wouldn't— dare return to the States herself, but she couldn't let them go without one last word. She walked them all the way to the gate, then pulled Mila aside, lowering her voice for a final, urgent farewell.

"Mila," she murmured, "promise me you'll keep your cool when you get back. If-if you do run into Lysander, don't provoke him. Don't try to fight him head-on. Just stay calm and talk it out. Whatever you do, don't make him angry-he's absolutely unhinged."

The mess with Adrian had clearly been no accident, but the timing was all wrong, and everyone knew it. Still, there was no choice but to go back, so Mila had to be extra careful.

"I know," Mila said, squeezing Miranda's hand with a reassuring smile.

Maybe it was all the shocks she'd endured recently, but by now Mila felt almost unnaturally calm, a quiet steadiness settling over her. "Don't worry. Whatever comes, I'll deal with it. There's always a way through." She refused to believe her road would end in a dead end now-not after all she'd survived before.

Seeing the composure in Mila's face and the lightness in her smile, Miranda finally allowed herself to relax a little. Still, she hesitated, then added in a near whisper, "If you change your mind about my idea if you ever want to take me up on it- just call me, okay? We'll figure it out together."

She was talking about the hunting lodge plan the one that sounded more like a wild scheme than a real solution.

Mila couldn't help but laugh, exasperated but touched. She didn't say yes or no- honestly, the whole thing was absurd—but seeing how serious Miranda was, she just nodded gently.

"We'll see when the time comes."

When it was finally time to say goodbye, Miranda's eyes grew bright and wet. She threw her arms around Mila, voice thick with tears. "Just promise me you'll be careful, okay?"

back in a few days. We're

shaking her head and clinging tighter, unable to say another word. They stood like that

back before you know it." Mila

Pembroke Estate, Kingsford.

sulking, surrounded by a mess of broken toys littered across the carpet. A housekeeper hovered

demanded answers from the Montgomerys. The Montgomery family, in their own strange fashion, had delivered their answer by sending over their youngest son-Adrian. Until the matter was resolved, Adrian would stay here as a sort of

the Pembroke staff barely batted

boy was a trial. His temper was worse than Julian's—who

was just the latest in a

go home! When are you going to let me go home? I want my mom!" Adrian shouted, one foot planted on the sofa as he glared at the man across from him-Nathaniel Pembroke, who sat cross-legged on the opposite

up. He recited the same line he'd repeated a dozen times today, voice flat and weary: "When Julian wakes up, when this is all sorted, when my

push him!" Adrian

still glued

help if he believed Adrian? Would it matter? The only opinion that counted was his sister's. He couldn't even go into the office these days he was stuck working from home, babysitting

was easy

Julian started at the new school, that putting the two boys together was bound to end badly. Sophia hadn't listened—or rather,

things had certainly fallen apart. Now Julian was in the hospital, unresponsive, and when Nathaniel got the call, he'd been so

when Julian first started school, but the boy had seemed better-eating more, no

fallen out