Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 438 April 5 After wrapping up work at the company, Mila made a stop at the cemetery before heading hto see Felicity. Thunderheads loomed overhead, casting the world in gray.

She calone, without her usual retinue. Stepping out of the car, Mila walked in by herself, a small bouquet of white flowers in hand. She placed them gently at the gravestone, lingered for a silent moment, then knelt to wipe the dust from the black-and-white photograph embedded in the granite. The man in the photo stared back with fox-sharp eyes, a touch of cruelty in his smile. Her own face remained impassive.

"I'm a day late," she murmured.

Yesterday had been the Day of Remembrance. She hadn't come-had deliberately waited until today.

Her voice softened as she continued, "You were late so many times in my life. Always showing up after I needed you. So now I'm a little late too. And next year, maybe later still. One day... I'll just stop coming. If that makes you mad, well, you'll just have to bear it." But then again- Even if you are angry, I'd never know.

Straightening up, Mila let a faint, rueful smile curve her lips. "I'm leaving now. Maybe I'll see you next year. Or maybe not. The paths here are hard to walk, the April air so damp... and after all, the living needmore. I hope you understand." As she finished, her smile faded a little.

Annoyed at her own sudden sentimentality, Mila shook her head and turned away, walking out of the cemetery. She had gone quite far before a tall figure stepped silently from the trees behind the grave, one strong hand resting on the cold stone.

His long black coat billowed in the wind.

Montgomery Manor Mila pushed open the glass door to the conservatory and found her mother tending to the plants inside, a small trowel in hand. The iciness Mila wore in boardrooms melted away at the sight. Her steps were heavy with affection as she called out softly when the woman turned toward her: "Mom." "Mila! You're back!" Felicity's face lit up with a childlike joy. Dropping the trowel, she rushed forward, not caring about the dirt on her hands.

Thanks to the rigorous workouts Mila had kept up since the incident on the island a year ago, she caught her mother with steady arms. Nuzzling into Felicity's neck, she whispered, "Mom, I chto see you." They held each other for a long moment before Mila gently released her, studying Felicity's increasingly pale face. "How have you been feeling lately?" she asked softly.

It was a relief, Mila thought, that Conrad had managed to keep things under wraps. He controlled every aspect of Felicity's outings and her contact with others, somehow keeping Lysander's death a secret for a whole year. Even now, Felicity didn't know. But her mental state had grown ever more unstable-sdays she was lively and full of energy, others she slept for days, unable to wake. Today, at least, she seemed bright.

"I'm doing so well!" Felicity beamed.

"If only you could visit more often, Mila. I wanted to fly out and see you myself, but Conrad kept stopping me. He says he feels anxious whenever I'm out of his sight. He's such a bother." Mila's smile faltered.

Felicity wanted to travel abroad? That was strange. Even with her memory lapses, Felicity had always been instinctively averse to leaving the country-an echo of the past. Why the sudden change? She was still puzzling it over when footsteps sounded behind her.

Mila turned to see Conrad enter. He nodded to her, then gently took Felicity's hand, saying, "Sweetheart, it's tfor dinner." "Mila, ceat with us!" Felicity slipped from his grasp and grabbed Mila's hand instead, grinning. "Conrad said you'd come. I asked the kitchen to make your favorite... your favorite..." She trailed off, confusion clouding her eyes. "What was your favorite again?" "Hash browns," Conrad supplied quietly.

"Ah, right-hash browns! Mila's favorite." Felicity tugged her toward the dining room. Mila walked with her, but unease gathered in her chest. She glanced back at Conrad, who could only offer a weary, helpless smile.

After dinner, Mila sat and spoke with Felicity until sleepiness overtook her mother. Only then did Mila slip away and head for Conrad's study.

"What's going on with Mom?" Her brow furrowed deeply. "She's not herself."

"It's her memory," Conrad admitted, the fatigue plain on his face. Rubbing his temples, he let out along Sigh." e oply realized last week. Every day, she wakes up having forgotten a little more-her mind and memories are slipping backward." "What?" Mila froze. "How far back is she now?" "Somewhere before she turned eighteen. I'm not sure exactly." Conrad looked defeated.

"Wait," Mila frowned. "But she recognizedtonight." "I can't explain it either," Conrad said, baffled. “The doctors and I have been testing her all week. She's forgotten so much—our marriage, our child... but she remembers you." Pet

He managed a wan smile. "Guess it helps that we grew up together and got engaged right after we turned, eighteen At least she still thinks ofas her boyfriend, so she doesn't pushaway. But honestly t stings-her own husband can't compare to you in her heart." Mila fell silent.

All this time, she'd believed the ever-elusive Coswas the real threat. She didn't know why he'dm stayed silent for a year-maybe they'd simply been vigilant enough—but the fear that he might suddenly reappear and hurt Felicity had haunted her constantly. But now-