His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 244: Second Chance

If he had tried something cheap back then, like faking a fall off his bike just to get her attention, Iris would've walked right past him without slowing down, probably assuming he was pulling some kind of stunt and not worth her time.

So he didn't take shortcuts.

He forced himself to change instead.

He studied like he was possessed, pushing far past what came naturally to him, all for one goal, getting into Oakridge High School. It wasn't easy, and he knew it, so in the end, he used every resource available, including Frederick's connections, just to make sure he got in. Pride didn't matter if it meant getting closer to her.

Basketball had never interested him, but she spent time around the courts, so he joined the team anyway, trained hard enough to become a key player, just to give himself a reason to exist in her world.

Reading wasn't his thing either, yet the library became a place he showed up to almost daily, because that's where she was. She would sit for hours, completely absorbed, and he would stay just as long, pretending to study while watching her from the edge of his vision.

Even when he sat close enough to hear her turn a page, she never once noticed him. Her attention never shifted. To her, he was invisible.

Back then, what he felt wasn't just a crush. It was obsessive in a way he never let anyone see. After every class, he would find an excuse to pass by her classroom, just to catch a glimpse of her. He kept things she threw away without thinking, empty pens, old notebooks, meaningless objects that somehow mattered to him. He took pictures that looked random but always included her somewhere in the frame. And every time she stood next to another guy, going over homework or laughing quietly, something in him tightened in a way he couldn't control.

When he found out she was aiming for Stanford University, everything else in his life dropped away. No distractions, no social life, barely any sleep. He pushed himself relentlessly until getting into the same school as her stopped being a dream and became something he made happen.

Through all of it, she never changed.

Iris stayed focused, her world revolving entirely around her goals, never once noticing the people around her, especially not him.

He tried in his own quiet ways, leaving flowers, small gifts, even bringing her something warm to drink during late nights, but she treated him the same way she treated every other guy, polite, distant, uninterested. Most of the time, she didn't even bother to look up.

To him, she was never someone ordinary.

She was someone you admired from a distance, someone untouchable.

He followed everything about her, every social account, every update, even the people she interacted with, just to make sure he never missed anything about her life.

Then one day, everything shifted.

He saw a post on Zoe's account.

Iris was looking for someone.

He didn't hesitate.

He pulled every connection he had, reached out through professors, cut short his time overseas, and came back just to make sure he was part of that introduction.

Every step he took toward her had been difficult.

And when he finally got his chance, the one chance that mattered, he lost it because of a misunderstanding.

The woman he had loved for over a decade slipped out of his life.

Now, this...

This was his second chance.

Maybe his last.

And he wasn't going to waste it.

He wanted Iris.

No matter what stood in his way.

Standing there, watching her sleep, his thoughts finally settled. He bent down slowly, one arm sliding under her back, the other beneath her legs, lifting her carefully into his arms.

She didn't wake.

The exhaustion had taken over completely, the strain of work and everything else weighing her down more than she let on.

Julian carried her into the bedroom, moving with quiet care as he laid her on the bed, pulling the blanket over her before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

He turned off the light and stepped out, closing the door behind him.

He didn't leave.

Instead, he spent the next two hours cleaning the apartment, moving through it methodically until everything was spotless, every detail in place. Only when he was satisfied did he gather the trash and finally head out.

The next morning, Iris woke to the sound of her alarm, her mind still foggy as she sat up in bed and ran a hand through her hair, trying to piece together how she had ended up here instead of the couch.

After washing up, she stepped out of the bedroom and stopped short.

The apartment looked completely different.

Everything was spotless, almost unnaturally organized, down to the smallest details. Even the books she had left scattered around were neatly stacked and aligned with precision.

There was no mistaking it.

That was Julian.

A faint, helpless smile touched her lips as she walked across the pristine floor toward the kitchen.

Before she got there, the doorbell rang.

She turned back, opened the door, and froze when she saw him standing there.

Julian looked like he had just stepped out of a boardroom, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, composed and polished, a faint, gentle smile on his face. In his hand was a thermal container, which he lifted slightly when she opened the door.

"I brought you breakfast."

"It's seven in the morning," Iris said, already feeling the frustration rise again. "Why are you here? Didn't I tell you not to come looking for me?"

Julian didn't argue. He simply held the container out to her, his voice calm and steady. "I've got a flight at eleven. I'll be in Tanelle for a few days. I'll come back as soon as I can. If anything comes up, call me."

Iris looked at the container in his hand, hesitating for a moment before taking it.

"I made your favorites," he said, placing the container in her hands. "Breakfast sausage, scrambled eggs, roasted veggies, and some chicken soup. It's still warm. Don't go too heavy on the sausage, just have a little and eat more of the sides."

Her chest tightened slightly, something warm and unfamiliar rising as she slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.

His eyes were steady, deep, and unmistakably gentle, the emotion in them impossible to hide. "I'm heading out," he said softly. "If something comes up and you can't handle it, call me."

She didn't respond.

A small, almost teasing smile touched his lips. "Even if nothing's wrong, you can still call. Or text."

He lingered for a second, waiting.

Iris stayed silent, holding the container in one hand as she slowly closed the door with the other.