Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 375 The moment the thought crossed her mind, Mila gave her head a little shake.

Stop it, she told herself.

Adrian was, after all, the Montgomery family's only heir now. If anything, the Montgomerys would be even more cautious and protective of him than she could ever be. As long as he didn't put himself in harm's way, nothing would happen to him.

There was no need for her to worry.

Having talked herself around, Mila picked up the invitation lying on the table, glanced idly at the signature at the bottom, and tossed it straight into the trash. Whether the sender meant trouble or not, she didn't want to go.

The next few days slipped by in a rare stretch of easygoing calm. Mila stayed at Lillian's Manor in Bamboo Grove with Miranda and Julian. Occasionally, Forrest would drop by in the evenings, joining them for dinner or a backyard barbecue. For once, life felt unhurried.

As soon as the bruise on her hand-courtesy of an ill-fated ceramic plate-began to heal, Mila started sorting through the photos from their road trip. She cataloged the landscapes and people they'd encountered, jotting down bursts of inspiration for future design projects. Whenever she did this, Julian would curl up beside her, listening intently as she described the gorgeous, sweeping scenery they'd seen, his eyes shining with wonder.

"Can I travel with you too, Mom?" "Of course you can." Mila gently pinched his chubby cheek. "When you get a little older, you'll have plenty of friends to join you on adventures-to see the world, the mountains, and the sea." "But I just want to go with you," Julian said softly, clinging to his mother's hand, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Mila smiled.

She almost told him that even moms can't stay with their children forever, but then she remembered how small he still was. He hadn't yet seen how wide the world could be, or met many people outside their little circle. How could he imagine anything different? So instead, she squeezed his hand and spoke gently, reassuring him.

"As long as you want, I'll always be here. And even if you change your mind someday, I'll support you-whatever makes you happy." "I won't change my mind," Julian insisted, gripping her hand tighter. "I just like being with you, Mom." "What, you don't like me?" cMiranda's teasing voice from behind, making Julian jump. He pouted. "Aunt Miranda, you scaredagain." It had been Miranda's idea that Julian call her Aunt. In her view, since Julian called Mila "Mom," and given how close she and Mila were almost like sisters-it was only right! With her cheerful, outgoing personality, and Mila's encouragement, Julian had warmed up to her quickly.

Now, even if Mila had to step away for a bit, she knew Miranda would keep an eye on Julian, and the boy wouldn't stray far. It was a huge relief.

Watching Miranda and Julian chase each other around the house-it was mostly Miranda doing the chasing-Mila couldn't help but smile, her heart brimming with happiness.

For a fleeting moment, she wished twould freeze right here, in this perfect slice of peace.

But then she shook her head, amused at her own sentimentality, and got back to work, fingers flying over the keyboard as she organized her latest batch of inspiration.

The trip had sparked an idea for her next design collection-one themed around landscapes and nature. In fact, she was confident she knew exactly what she wanted to create.

Though her hand still ached and she couldn't sketch yet, the designs had already taken shape in her mind. All that remained was to choose the right materials and, once she could draw again, get the concepts down on paper. The only problem was time.

Mila sighed quietly.

So much had interrupted her plans. Even if she worked day and night, she doubted she could finish both of her themed designs before the international fashion week in June and July.

Maybe she'd have to settle for just one.

Well, so be it. She'd sleep less and do her best to finish both.

By the tshe looked up again, evening had arrived. Forrest, who lived across the way and always finished work early, cknocking at their door, his voice cheerful as he called the laughing tinside.

"Dinner's ready!" Of the three adults, Julian was too young to cook, Miranda's cooking left much to be desired, and Mila-while a great cook-was still nursing her hand. With the manor so far from town, takeout was both a hassle and unhealthy. So, Forrest had taken it upon himself to provide their meals.

When he was busy during the day, Howard would deliver their food. At night, Forrest joined them for dinner. "Coming!" Miranda called, scooping up a giggling Julian and heading to the door.

"Mom, Mom! Aunt Miranda is being mean!" Julian complained, though his voice was so sweet and gentle, it was impossible to take him seriously. If anything, it just made him more adorable. "Miranda, be gentle with him," Mila called out with a smile, knowing Miranda would never actually hurt the boy.

Mila rose from her desk, still smiling, and headed to the door to greet Forrest, falling into step beside him as they walked to dinner.

The sun was setting, painting the sky with streaks of gold and crimson.

Beneath the evening glow, the little group strolled down the om bamboo-lined path.) Ahead, Miranda and Julian tussled and laughed, the boy darting and dodging with peals of laughter trailing behind him.

Farther back, Mila and Forrest walked side by side, their conversation easy and unhurried, perfectly at hamid the gentle sway of the bamboo.

A warm spring breeze stirred the trees, filling the air with a soft rustling sound.

Tseemed to slow.

But tdid move on, and the date of the party crept closer.

Mila had nearly forgotten about it, until the day before the event, when a message from Giselle shattered her rare sense of peace.

It was a single photograph.

One look was all it took to drain the color from her face.