Who's Crying Now, Ex-Husband? novel Chapter 315

And then, there was that name—Mimi.

It sounded so familiar.

“What did you just call me?” she asked, dazed.

“Mimi,” Forrest replied.

He let out a soft sigh, a shadow of sadness flickering across his otherwise striking features. “After all this time, you still don’t remember me?”

Mimi?

Mila’s face went blank as she stared at the man before her, really looking at him for the first time. Slowly, his delicate features began to blur and merge with the memory of a boy she hadn’t seen in years.

It was the summer she turned twelve.

Her parents were strict and neglectful; there were days she barely had enough to eat. Her classmates had all started raising silkworms, but good mulberry leaves were hard to come by. So, Mila would sneak out to an abandoned factory near her house, climbing the old mulberry tree there to collect fresh leaves. She’d trade them to her classmates for a bit of pocket change or a few bites of candy—anything to curb her hunger and satisfy her cravings, if only a little.

There was an ancient mulberry tree in that deserted factory lot.

One day, as she climbed up to gather leaves, she suddenly heard the muffled sound of someone crying. Curious, she leaned out for a better look—and lost her balance, tumbling down from the tree.

She landed right on top of a boy.

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to!” she blurted, scrambling to her feet, mortified. Mulberry leaves scattered everywhere. The boy looked up just then, and through the dappled sunlight filtering through the branches, she saw the face of a boy in a white shirt, his features gently illuminated by a golden halo. He looked like he’d just been crying; his eyes and nose were red.

He was even more handsome than the heroes on TV. For a moment, the scruffy little girl just stared, awestruck.

After a few seconds, she noticed the boy’s brow furrow, and fresh tears welled up in his eyes. Mila panicked, worried she’d hurt him. What if his parents came and blamed her? Being hit hurt—a lot. Once, a chair thrown in anger had left her bleeding.

Desperate to make him smile, she grabbed a handful of mulberry leaves and stuck them in her hair, trying to look wild and silly. Then, imitating the monkey king from her favorite cartoon, she bounced on her toes and called out in a loud, cheerful voice, “Look! The Great Monkey King is here! No more monsters, no more pain. Everything’s okay now!”

The boy stopped crying, staring at the skinny, shabby little girl before him, jumping and grinning in the sunlight, doing her best to make him laugh. She looked ridiculous, but to him, she shone brighter than the sun.