His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 196: Too Close

"What is it?"

"My watch. It should be in your room."

At eleven at night?

The excuse was thin, and they both knew it.

Still, there wasn't much she could do about it. She let out a quiet breath. "Give me a minute."

She turned and walked back into her bedroom, opening drawers until she found it. The watch sat there, exactly where he must have left it on purpose.

She picked it up, staring at it for a moment.

You really thought this through, didn't you?

With a quiet sigh, she walked back to the door and opened it.

The moment she extended her hand to return it, Julian stepped forward, closing the distance in an instant. His presence filled the space as he guided her backward, one hand bracing the door shut behind him.

She barely had time to react before her back hit the wall.

Then he kissed her.

There was nothing tentative about it. No hesitation, no restraint, just urgency and something far too intense to ignore. The force of it stole her breath, his familiar scent wrapping around her as heat rushed through her system all at once.

Her grip tightened around the watch, her pulse spiraling out of control as her body reacted before her mind could catch up.

This isn't right... I should stop him...

But the thought didn't hold.

It slipped, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the moment.

His arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her effortlessly as she instinctively grabbed onto his shoulders. He didn't give her time to speak, carrying her straight toward the bedroom as if there were no other option.

When she hit the bed, reality snapped back in sharp and sudden. She turned her head, breaking the kiss, her breathing uneven as she struggled to steady herself. "Julian, what are you doing?"

He caught her wrists in one hand and pinned them gently but firmly above her head, his other hand brushing along her side as his voice dropped, rough and strained. "You think I can just walk away after this? After you?"

There was no easy way to fight him off, not like this, not when every instinct was working against her.

Resistance blurred into something else, something she didn't want to name.

The night stretched on, intense and consuming, leaving no room for anything outside of it.

By the time everything finally stilled, the sky had long since gone dark.

Iris lay curled against him, completely drained, sleep taking her almost instantly.

Julian didn't sleep.

He held her close, his fingers moving absently through her hair as he watched her face, soft and unguarded in sleep. After a while, he leaned down and pressed a quiet kiss to her forehead.

"Iris," he murmured, barely above a whisper, "do you really not feel anything for me?"

She didn't stir.

He closed his eyes, pulling her closer, his voice low and certain. "You do. You have to."

She shifted slightly in her sleep, her cheek brushing against his chest as she settled in closer, her voice soft and distant. "Julian... I don't know what to do..."

His eyes opened immediately.

He lowered his head, studying her face. "What aren't you telling me?"

But she had already drifted deeper into sleep, leaving the question unanswered.

After a long moment, he let out a quiet breath and closed his eyes, holding her as sleep eventually caught up with him too.

The next morning, sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, undisturbed by any alarm.

Iris woke slowly, her mind still heavy with sleep. She turned her head instinctively, but the other side of the bed was empty.

She pushed herself up, pulling the blanket around her, and noticed a neatly folded set of clothes placed at the foot of the bed.

After getting dressed, she stepped into the bathroom and paused.

A glass of water sat by the sink, and beside it, a toothbrush already prepared.

She stood there for a moment, something tightening in her chest.

The more thoughtful he was, the harder it became to hold her ground.

By the time she stepped into the living room, everything was already clean, almost too clean, like he had made sure not to leave a trace behind.

Her gaze landed on the dining table.

Breakfast had been set out.

He was gone.

She walked over slowly and sat down. In front of her was a bowl of creamy chicken noodle soup, exactly the kind she loved, the kind that felt like comfort in its simplest form.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the spoon as she gave it a small stir, but the lump in her throat wouldn't go away, and she just couldn't bring herself to take a bite.

If this kept going, she wasn't sure she would be able to walk away.

And if she didn't...

How was she supposed to face everything that came with him?

She set the spoon down, reached for a tissue, and wiped at the tears that had gathered without warning.

The sound of the door opening broke the silence.

She turned.

Julian stepped inside, setting his keys down as he slipped off his shoes, glancing up at her like this was the most natural thing in the world. "You're up."

She looked at him, confusion flickering across her face.

"I took the trash out," he added, heading toward the kitchen to wash his hands.

Iris watched him, her expression calm, but her thoughts anything but.

Even without everything else, just being around him, the way he carried himself, the ease in his presence, it was enough to pull her in deeper than she wanted to admit.

I have to end this. Now.

"Julian," she said, her voice steady despite the tension underneath, "we need to talk."

He pulled out a chair and sat beside her, turning slightly so he was facing her fully. "Alright. What's on your mind?"

She pushed the bowl away, putting physical distance between herself and everything it represented, then met his eyes.

"I'm serious about this," she said calmly. "I don't want us to stay in contact anymore."