His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 187: The Breaking Point

The hospital bills for Keith had been piling up for months, each statement more suffocating than the last, and Ethan's debt wasn't any better, numbers stacked so high they barely felt real anymore. Every obligation hanging over her family was massive, the kind that could crush a person without warning.

A cold wave surged up from Iris's feet, spreading through her body until it settled deep in her chest, hollowing everything out. Her fingers curled into tight fists, trembling slightly, while her eyes burned red with restrained emotion.

"I won't ruin your perfect holiday dinner," she said, her voice hoarse, thick with something she refused to let spill over. Without waiting for anyone to respond, she turned and headed straight for the door.

Keith shot up from his seat, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "Get back here!" he barked. "Your mother didn't say anything wrong. What makes you think you can walk out like that?"

Ethan hurried after her and caught up just as she reached the door, grabbing her arm with urgency. "Iris, don't take this so hard," he said, lowering his voice as if that would make it easier to swallow. "You know how they are. I get that you're upset, I really do, but we're the younger ones here. Sometimes you just have to let things go. Come back, apologize, and promise you'll stay away from Caleb. Then we can move on from this."

Iris looked at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears, her throat tight and burning as she forced the words out. "They said I was sleeping around with Caleb. I told them that's not true. So tell me, Ethan, who do you believe?"

Ethan hesitated, but not for long. "Celeste wouldn't lie to me," he said, almost automatically. "And Selena said the same thing about you two, so—"

He didn't get any further.

Iris pulled her arm free in one sharp motion and stepped back, the last of her patience snapping cleanly. She didn't argue, didn't defend herself again, and didn't look at him another second. Instead, she turned and walked out, her pace steady and final.

Ethan moved to follow, but Celeste quickly stepped in and caught his arm. "Ethan, you know how stubborn she is," she said, her tone soft but dismissive. "If you go after her now, you're just asking for trouble. Let her cool off and think about what she's done."

From inside, Grace's voice cut through the air, loud and irritated. "Exactly. Leave her alone. It's New Year and she's dragging everyone's mood down. Honestly, it's bad luck having her act like this tonight."

Iris heard every word clearly, along with the heavy sound of the door shutting behind her.

She wiped at her tears as she stepped into the elevator, her reflection staring back at her in silence.

Outside, the night air hit her immediately, sharp and biting. She walked without direction, her steps carrying her farther and farther from the only place she technically had to call home.

The cold seeped through her coat, but it barely registered compared to the ache inside her chest, as if something had been carved out, leaving behind an open wound that wouldn't stop bleeding.

Her phone and luggage were still on the island.

She didn't have any cash on her.

Nowhere to go.

Nowhere to stay.

The realization settled in slowly but hit just as hard.

After a divorce, "home" stops existing.

The wind pushed against her, drying the tears on her cheeks only for more to replace them. Her skin stung from the cold, her vision blurring as lights stretched and smeared across her line of sight.

By the time night fully set in, the streets had grown quiet, most people already inside, gathered with their families, celebrating New Year over dinner and laughter. Warm light spilled from windows, carrying a sense of belonging she could feel but no longer touch.

She was the only one left outside of it.

Alone.

Then a black luxury sedan pulled up slowly behind her and stopped just ahead.

Iris paused, her steps faltering as she turned.

The driver stepped out and approached her with polite professionalism. "Miss Whitlow, sorry to interrupt your evening. Mr. Everhart would like to speak with you for a moment."

Iris's gaze shifted to the backseat.

The window lowered, revealing Frederick's profile, sharp and composed, his presence as imposing as ever.

Six months since she had last seen him.

And on a night like this, he had come in person.

This wasn't casual.

"Please," the driver said, gesturing toward the car.

Iris let out a slow breath, already understanding what this was about. Without resisting, she walked around and got into the car.

The driver remained outside, giving them privacy.

Inside, the air felt heavy, almost suffocating under Frederick's silent authority. He didn't speak immediately, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable, as though everything about him was calculated and controlled.

Iris broke the silence first. "What do you need, Mr. Everhart?"

Frederick didn't waste time. He pulled out a check and held it out toward her.

"Two hundred million," he said flatly. "Stay away from my sons."

Iris looked at the check, her eyes tracing the number before a faint, restrained smile appeared, more bitter than amused.

"Must be nice," she said quietly. "To treat that kind of money like it's nothing."

"The Everhart family isn't something you get to marry into," Frederick replied coldly. "You're divorced. That should've been the end of it. Julian will marry Lily. Caleb's future is already arranged as well. Whatever you're thinking, stop."

Iris let out a soft, humorless laugh, exhaustion weighing down every word she didn't say.

She had no intention of marrying anyone again.

And yet somehow, in everyone else's version of the story, she was the one chasing, the one refusing to let go, the one trying to hold onto something that was never hers to begin with.

When in reality, she had been the one dragged back into it, over and over again.

"Take it," Frederick said, his patience thinning as he tossed the check onto her lap.

Iris picked it up, her fingers steady despite everything, and looked at it again before meeting his eyes.

"Honestly, even without this money, I would never become your daughter-in-law again," she said calmly.

Frederick scoffed, unimpressed.

"I do need the money," Iris continued, her tone even. "So I'll take it. But we're doing this properly. I want it notarized, and it will be documented as compensation for the research monkeys you caused to die."

For the first time, Frederick's expression shifted.

"My monkeys weren't just animals," Iris said, her voice sharpening, steady and unyielding. "They were years of work. Their research value was far beyond two hundred million. You destroyed that. The only reason you're not facing charges is because I don't have the power to make that happen. But this money? I'm taking it with a clear record."

Frederick's gaze darkened. "You think I'd go back on my word?"

Iris met his eyes without hesitation. "It wouldn't be out of character."