Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 302

Overnight, Mila’s reputation in the tutoring world was utterly destroyed—everyone was talking, everyone was condemning her.

On a blisteringly hot summer day, Mila sat in the police station, repeating over and over that she hadn’t stolen anything and hadn’t laid a hand on the child. Her voice was raw, her lips cracked and peeling from dehydration, and sweat beaded across her skin despite the air conditioning. She was trembling uncontrollably, unable to keep her composure in the face of such humiliation.

In the end, with no evidence to prove she’d stolen or hurt anyone, the police couldn’t detain her. But the scandal had already spread. She’d technically bent a few rules, so every cent she’d earned from tutoring was reclaimed, and on top of that, she was slapped with a hefty fine.

A call from her university came next—a stern warning: she was forbidden from tutoring ever again.

In a single night, she went from having a modest savings to being flat broke, even owing money she didn’t have.

It was her best friend, Miranda Wayne, who finally got the call. Miranda rushed down to the station, paid the rest of Mila’s fine, and got her released.

Outside, the city was alive with summer noise—kids begging their parents for ice cream or toys, adults pretending to protest but giving in, laughter and chatter everywhere. To Mila, it all felt impossibly distant, like the happy scenes belonged to another world.

For a moment, she honestly wondered if she could go on. The thought flickered in her mind—what was the point of trying anymore?

“Mila?”

Just then, when despair threatened to swallow her whole, a warm hand clasped her ice-cold fingers. Miranda’s eyes were full of worry as she looked at Mila, who was silently crying.

Through her tears, Mila choked out, “Miranda, it’s just so hard…”

All she’d ever wanted was a simple, honest life—nothing special, nothing ambitious, just a little bit of peace. Why was that so impossible?

Miranda’s own tears spilled over. Right there on the busy street, she pulled Mila into a fierce embrace, holding her like she could keep her from falling apart.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” Miranda whispered, again and again, as if trying to pull Mila back from the edge.

Mila clung to her friend’s warmth, biting her lip, and finally broke down in quiet sobs that soon turned into gut-wrenching cries. She didn’t care who saw; Miranda just held her tighter.