Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband?

Chapter 370 Kingsford Medical Center The doctor finished cleaning and bandaging the wound on the back of Mila's right hand, gave her a few instructions, and then slipped quietly out of the room. Now, only Mila and Adrian remained in the hospital room.

An uneasy silence settled between them.

Adrian kept his head down, and if you listened closely, you could hear the faint sound of sniffling. Mila, however, felt no urge to comfort him. Her emotions were tangled-a mess of anxiety, frustration, and even fear.

Back in the restaurant, when Adrian had hurled that plate, there'd been a split second where Mila could have sworn she was looking at Lysander instead. The resemblance was uncanny. Both father and son, so willful, so utterly absorbed in their own world.

After a long pause, Mila finally spoke, trying to keep her voice steady. "Adrian, do you understand what you just did? That plate could have hit Julian in the head. Do you realize what could have happened?" "But he started it! Why did he call you Mom?!" Adrian's voice trembled with anger as he shot her a tearful glare. "Or is it because you have another son out there? Is that it?" "No, Adrian. He's a friend's child, that's all." Mila could sense his emotions spiraling out of control. She rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on, and tried to explain. But Adrian wasn't listening.

He dug in his heels, insisting he'd done nothing wrong. He flatly refused to apologize and declared that Julian was the one who owed him an apology-for calling his mom "Mom" in the first place.

He was relentless, clinging to his twisted logic. Mila felt her heart grow colder with every word.

She'd always thought Adrian took after his father-charming, even manipulative at an early age-but she had brushed it off as harmless. He'd never really hurt anyone.

But now...

Now she saw it clearly. Adrian was just like his father: no empathy, no warmth, just a stubborn, self-centered coldness.

She felt suffocated, defeated-and above all, disappointed.

In the Montgomery household, Mila had never really had a say in how Adrian was raised. She tried to guide him whenever she could, but he'd always seen her as a nuisance, pushing her further away while he clung tighter to his father and to Giselle.

And now this-a complete disregard for hurting someone else.

When did it get this bad? The sound of Adrian's angry wailing clawed at her aching head. Any trace of gentleness vanished from Mila's face. She looked at Adrian, her expression unreadable, and said flatly, "Adrian, it's wrong to hurt people just because you don't like what they say." "I didn't do anything wrong!" Adrian's fists clenched, his eyes red. "Are you really taking someone else's side over your own son?" Mila didn't answer. She didn't even have the energy to be angry anymore. Red-eyed, she stared at her stubborn little boy, and just like that, all her emotions drained away, leaving her feeling hollow.

She spoke at last, her voice light and distant. "You're right, Adrian. You did nothing wrong. It's me... I'm the one who's wrong, I—" She caught herself before she said too much, biting back the rest of her words.

Taking a deep breath, she crouched down and gently stroked Adrian's hair. He seemed to think she'd forgiven him his anger faded, and he leaned into her touch, his little face nuzzling against her palm. Tears welled in Mila's eyes.

She looked closely at him, searching his features—the ssharp eyes as Lysander's, almost a perfect copy. After a long moment, she spoke, her voice trembling.

"I'm sorry, Adrian." It took everything she had just to say those words. Her face crumpled with exhaustion as she slowly stood. Adrian, confused and anxious, watched her turn and walk out of the room, her footsteps heavy.

"Mom!" He snapped out of his daze and chased after her, but the bodyguard standing outside the door scooped him up before he could reach her.

Mila didn't look back. Her voice was cool and distant: "Take the young master back to the Montgomery house." That's where he belonged now.

"Mom! Mom!" Adrian shouted, struggling against the guard's arms, trying to reach for Mila. Just then, a deep, commanding voice echoed down the hallway.

"Adrian." Adrian froze. He looked up, eyes still red, and choked out, "Dad." "Let's go home," Lysander said quietly.

"But-" "Home. Now." Lysander's expression didn't change. Adrian fell silent, letting Leonard carry him away down the corridor.

"Your hand-"

Lysander tried to approach Mila, but the bodyguards blocked his pathn Mila stood behind them, her face turned away, devoid of any emotion or words. They stood like that for a moment, the tension heavy in the air.

Then Nathaniel stepped out from the next room, looking tired. He called out, "Lysander, we need to talk."

Lysander glanced at Mila-still refusing to look at him, still om silent-themat Nathaniel. Without another word, he turned and left.

Only when Lysander and Adrian had gone did Mila finally feel like she could breathe again. She let outran long sigh, pressed a hand to her forehead, and rummaged in her pearl clutch for the little bottle of pills the doctor had given her on her last trip-something to help with her recovery. She swallowed one.

Almost instantly, the sharp pain in her head began to fade, and her thoughts cleared.