Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 411 Thinking about all this, Mila's grip tightened around her phone.

Suddenly, a tailored suit jacket settled around her shoulders, cool and fragrant with sandalwood. The man-fresh from the shower, hair damp, skin still tinged with steam-drew her gently into his arms.

"It gets cold out here at sea at night," he murmured.

Mila brushed his hand away.

She turned back toward the cabin and rummaged through the drawers. Apart from his clothes and the flimsy slip she was already wearing, there wasn't a single thing of her own to be found.

Of course he'd done this on purpose.

She couldn't even be bothered to argue.

In the end, she pulled a crisp white men's shirt from the closet-a long, oversized cut that barely covered the tops of her thighs. She slipped into the bathroom to change, buttoned up the jacket, and was about to head out when the man-who'd been leaning against the doorframe, watching her intently-blocked her way.

"Going somewhere?" "I'm hungry. I want to eat." After her tin the manor, where meals were unpredictable at best, she'd learned to take food seriously. If she was hungry, she ate no hesitation.

He let out a low, amused laugh. "I'll have them bring something up. And you- what are you planning to do, walking out there dressed like that?" Without waiting for her answer, he swept her up effortlessly and settled onto the sofa, holding her in his lap.

"Darling, are you trying to seduce me?" Mila inhaled sharply, wishing she could knock ssense into this man with his infuriatingly dirty mind. Every the spoke, she wanted to explode.

Barely restraining her temper, she managed, "Then findsomething I can actually wear." "Something else?" Lysander's grin was wolfish. "Are you sure about that, darling?" Mila refused to answer.

She regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. Knowing him, there was no telling what he'd cup with; that would be worse than wearing his clothes.

"Still mad at me?" When she turned her face away in silence, Lysander simply pulled her legs apart and settled her more firmly on his lap, pressing her close to his chest as he asked, "When does the boat reach shore?" "That depends on my mood," Lysander replied with a lazy smile. "Or maybe if you makehappy, we could arrive sooner than you think." Bastard.

She was about to snap when her stomach growled loudly. Mila had no choice but to take a deep breath, reminding herself to focus on food-everything else could wait until after she'd eaten.

Right now, nothing scared her more than hunger.

Seeing her like this, Lysander finally relented. He held her quietly, not moving, simply sitting with her on the sofa.

It was a rare moment of peace.

Soon, dinner arrived. Mila's entire attention shifted to the food in front of her; she barely noticed the man she loathed sitting across the room. She only looked up again when music began to play softly in the cabin.

Noticing her attention had returned, Lysander-having just set up the record- smiled and crossed the room. "So you finally remembered I exist, darling?" Mila frowned.

Soft music drifted through the dimly lit room, the atmosphere between man and woman suddenly charged with an uneasy tension.

"What are you doing?" "I just want you to relax a little." Lysander sat beside her, gently smoothing the crease from her brow. "You're safe now, darling. You'll never have to go back to that place again. I promise." He could sense the unease she tried to hide deep inside.

Mila was silent.

She wanted to tell him that it wasn't just the manor that haunted her the nightmares of that place, the man who tormented her-but also the man in front of her. Yet, whether it was because he'd saved her, or because she was simply too exhausted to argue after everything she'd been through, she kept her sharp words to herself.

The music swelled quietly.

They sat opposite each other, holding one another's gaze, saying nothing-just looking.

After a long silence, Mila finally spoke, her question abrupt and seemingly out of nowhere. "What's the nof this song?" "Love Story."" "No, not this one. On the island-when you cto find me, the band played a song in the car. What was it called?" She remembered it vividly.

Lysander paused, his eyes darkening as he regarded her. "It was 'Lips On You."' As if worried she hadn't heard, he repeated, "Darling, it was 'Lips On You."" With that, he rose and changed the record.

The familiar melody filled the air.

Moving with the gentle rhythm, Lysander approached her, sat by her side, and leaned in, voice low at her ear. "Listen, darling." He began to hum softly along with the music.

"We've been waiting on this moment for so long..." "...Right until the morning..." "...When I put my lips on you..." "...Baby, cry for me..."

His husky, magnetic voice lingered by her ear, his breath warm and O M trempling with

emotion. For a moment, Mila was transported back to that night fleeing the chapel leaping into his arms-the world frozen in a single heartbeat. She heard him sing: "Just turn off the lights..." As that final line faded, Lysander seemed no longer able to hold back. He turned his head, searching for her lips, ready to claim a kiss.

But just as he leaned in, Mila turned away.

His kiss brushed the corner of her mouth instead.

She pushed him away.

The music played on, but Mila abruptly stood, putting several steps and a wall of

cool distance between them. The confusion and vulnerability inchem eyes vanished, feplaced by a clear and icy calm. Lysander remained seated, head bowed, motionless.