Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 575

The lawn was alive with laughter and conversation.

Despite a few hiccups, the engagement party was finally underway. Once the toasts were mostly done, Mila told the guests to make themselves at home-eat, drink, play, and relax as they pleased. After all, the whole resort was booked out for a month. Even after today, she and Forrest would be staying on for a while, so it made sense to let everyone enjoy themselves now.

Mila leaned over to Forrest, murmured a few words, then slipped away toward the back of the estate, planning to catch her breath and change into something more comfortable before rejoining the festivities.

She'd made it halfway down the hall when someone called her name.

Howard hurried up, looking pale. He lowered his voice. "Ms. Sutherland, there's a problem. Mrs. Montgomery... she's gone. Mr. Sutherland took Mr. Montgomery to the security room to check the cameras."

Mila froze.

She blinked, trying to process the words. Had she misheard? Who was missing?

Mrs. Montgomery.

Felicity?

"Mmm... That smell... roses?"

The sun was setting, painting the resort grounds in warm amber. Felicity wandered among the deep green trees at the edge of the property, eyelashes fluttering as she followed the faint scent she'd caught earlier on the lawn.

It was a strange, lovely fragrance.

Like roses.

Felicity knew that scent well.

Not long ago, Mila had gifted her a special bottle of rose perfume. She'd adored it, used it often, even tried to mix her own version, but she could never quite capture the same note. Later, she'd called Mila and learned that the perfume's roses were a rare variety, created by the perfumer's mentor through years of cultivation. No wonder she couldn't replicate it.

garden roses just

of recreating the scent, and the little bottle

close. Her nose was sharp; this wasn't the same perfume, but

it wound deeper

kind of rose was

through shadowed trees. She passed through the dusk and into a wooden, gabled cottage tucked at the forest's

inside and

stories open to the peaked roof, empty save for a pair of stained-glass windows

the windows

could only

his hair long, brushing his shoulders in tawny,

sharp lines of his shoulders and neck, that he was a man-and not just any man, but someone

She smiled to herself.

paused at the door,

even a single

the scent was

gaze drifted back to the man.

back to her, fixed on the sunset outside. The last light gilded his figure

the air

a

at his back, a strange sense of familiarity tugged at her. Had they met before? She

A figure like this...

a hand to her forehead.

"Are you coming in?"

as velvet-warm, familiar, almost as if they'd known each other for years. It was beautiful, she thought, too distracted to

looked up, just in time to see the man turn to face her, the sunset blazing