Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 560

The sunlight was perfect.

Mila stared blankly at the white curtains billowing on the balcony, rocking gently in her chair, her gaze unfocused and lost.

She felt oddly grateful.

During the call just now, Conrad hadn’t tried to use Felicity as leverage against her—not that it would’ve worked anymore. She was done being swayed. Still, if he’d brought Felicity up in this moment, the only scrap of good memory she still had of the Montgomery family would have shattered completely.

That memory belonged to her and Felicity alone.

She was glad Conrad hadn’t mentioned it.

Glad she could keep that one, untarnished piece of the past.

She was still lost in thought when the sound of the sliding glass door behind her broke the quiet. Before she could turn around, something cold and damp pressed against her sun-warmed cheek. She yelped—“Oh, that’s freezing!”—and jerked away, only to look up and see Forrest grinning as he stepped inside.

He was holding a tall glass of pink juice, brimming with chunks of fruit.

“Freshly made peach lemonade. Want to try it?”

He gave the glass a gentle shake, ice cubes clinking. Mila, still curled up awkwardly in the rocking chair, leaned forward and took a sip from the straw he offered.

Sweet and tart, bright and refreshing.

The chill trickled down her throat, soothing the ache that had been burning there all morning.

She took another long sip. “This is amazing. Maybe a little too cold.”

“A little bit won’t hurt.”

Forrest casually pulled over a chair and sat beside her. His hand was steady, holding the glass as he watched her drink, a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve come up with a few more recipes. I’ll make them for you to try, one by one.”

Mila nodded, still sipping. “This one’s really good.”

After another few gulps, a thought suddenly struck her. She looked up, puzzled. “How do you even have time to make juice? My phone’s been ringing off the hook for hours. Don’t you have calls to answer?”

It didn’t make sense.

“Oh, my phone?” Forrest lifted his chin, thinking for a moment, then shrugged. “No idea. I gave it to Vance—he can handle the negotiations. I’ll just keep in touch with a few close contacts myself.”

Mila stared at him.

Why hadn’t she thought of that?

Without another word, she set her juice aside and quickly called Cara, telling her to come take her business phone. One private number was all she needed to stay in touch.

She didn’t have a housekeeper, but she did have a secretary.

She really had let herself get flustered.

“Dummy,” Forrest teased, chuckling.

“I was just overwhelmed, okay?”

Mila bristled, only half-joking, and reached out to swat at him from her rocking chair. Before she could land a blow, Forrest caught her wrist instead, pulling her gently closer until their foreheads touched. His soft laughter was warm against her skin, his voice low and intimate.

“Careful, you’ll spill the juice.”

The ice in the glass rattled, and for a second it sounded unbelievably loud, echoing somewhere deep inside her.