Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 369

She remembered everything from the past.

And she still remembered yesterday at the airport—Adrian and Giselle, hand in hand, clinging to each other like they couldn’t bear to be apart.

Did Adrian really miss her?

Maybe, Mila thought. After all, she was her biological mother. But she’d never mean as much to Adrian as Giselle did. It was better this way—keeping their distance, seeing each other only occasionally.

It wasn’t her business anymore.

...

Later, when Adrian started fidgeting in little angry ways, Mila deliberately ignored it. She kept her composure, calmly moving food onto her plate as if nothing was wrong.

She listened but said nothing.

Unexpectedly, halfway through dinner, Lysander took a call and had to leave early. He asked Mila to take Adrian home, or to have the family driver pick him up.

As soon as he left, Mila let out a sigh of relief.

Finally, he’s gone.

“Are you mad at Dad?” Adrian suddenly blurted out, having watched his mother from the corner of his eye the whole time, and noticing her relax.

Mila answered coolly, “No.”

“Liar,” Adrian huffed. “As soon as Dad left, you smiled. Mom, why do you keep lying today?”

There was no dodging this “lying” topic today, it seemed.

Mila’s heart gave a little twist. She paused, then asked, “Adrian, if your father and I really did have a fight—a serious one—what would you think?”

Adrian frowned, troubled. “How serious?”

“...Very serious,” Mila said gently. “So serious we wouldn’t want to see each other, or even hear each other speak. The kind of fight where you can’t stand being in the same room.”

Adrian scrunched up his face, thinking hard. Then, out of nowhere, he piped up, “Mom, are you and Dad going through the seven-year itch?”

“...Who told you about that?” Mila was startled.

“A kid in my class,” Adrian replied. “He said his parents fight all the time at home. His mom’s always crying and yelling about the seven-year itch, that his dad doesn’t love her anymore. It’s a mess. He’s scared of going home—he even said he wants to live with us instead.”

Adrian frowned. “But you and Dad don’t fight or yell.”

Mila wanted to tell him that what was between her and Lysander wasn’t the seven-year itch—it was just pure hatred. But how could she explain adult grudges to a seven-year-old? That would only burden him, make him anxious, and leave him with a shadow over his view of family.

While she was still searching for the right words, a small figure suddenly came running from across the room, a clear, childish voice calling out:

“Mom!”

Before she could react, someone flung their arms around her.

Mila’s mind went blank for a moment. She hadn’t even registered what happened when Adrian, sitting beside her, exploded—reaching out to yank the other child off her waist.

“Who are you?!” Adrian’s face turned red with anger, his voice sharp. “Let go! Stop hugging my mom and calling her that—she’s my mom! My mom!”

But the little boy clinging to Mila refused to let go. At Adrian’s words, he burst into loud, heartbroken sobs. “You’re lying! She’s my mom! My mom! I won’t let go!”

“Let go!”

“No!”