His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 257: Stubborn Protection

Julian paused, considering his words carefully. "Look, I get that you don't want me around, and you don't want my help. But are you really sure some random babysitter is going to treat Frank right? And while you're at work, what's stopping Emily from just showing up and taking him?"

Iris' eyes welled up, her voice tight with anger. "Frank hasn't done anything wrong. Are you saying I should just sit back and do nothing?"

"Make his father step up," Julian replied, each word deliberate and firm.

Iris let out a bitter laugh, pressing her lips together as her eyes grew shiny with tears.

The mention of her brother only made her feel more abandoned.

The Ethan she knew now wasn't the same brother who'd always had her back. Ever since Celeste came into the picture, he'd chosen a side—and it wasn't hers.

She took a shaky breath, her chest aching. "All he cares about right now is marrying Celeste. He's forgotten he even has a son. You know how it goes—a new stepmom often means a stepdad who doesn't want the baggage. They're not even married yet, and he already acts like Frank's in the way. What kind of responsibility do you really think he's going to take?"

"But you..." Julian's tone was heavy. His gaze dropped to her stomach, but he caught himself.

She hadn't told him about the pregnancy. He didn't want to push what she was clearly hiding, afraid she'd shut down completely.

After a moment, he tried again, softer this time. "Let me help you, Iris. Let me look out for you and Frank."

Iris pushed his hands away, her demeanor cold. "No, thank you."

Julian's brow furrowed. "Why are you being so stubborn about this?"

A sarcastic smile touched her lips. "You're already stretched thin taking care of Lily. Now you want to add me and Frank to the list? Do you even have the time?"

Her words came out sharper than she intended, laced with a jealousy she couldn't quite hide.

"Lily doesn't need me looking after her. She's got—"

Iris cut him off. "She needs you, Julian. If she doesn't see you for a couple of days, she throws a whole fit."

Julian fell silent, opening his mouth but finding no words. He didn't know how to respond.

Just then, a light knock sounded at the door, followed by Frank's small voice. "Auntie? Uncle? Aren't you guys coming out to eat?"

Iris placed her hands on Julian's chest and gently pushed him back a step. "Yeah, sweetie, we're coming."

Then, lowering her voice so only Julian could hear, she added, "I don't trust any of you right now—not my brother, not my mom, not you, and definitely not Emily. So don't try to talk me out of this. I'm the only one who can protect Frank."

As she turned to open the door, her hand stilled on the knob. Without looking back, she spoke in a chilled, flat tone. "And once you're done eating, I want you to leave. Don't come looking for me again. Don't make me change my number and move just to get away from you."

With that, she walked out, leaving Julian standing alone in the room.

He let out a slow breath, one hand resting on his hip, the other rubbing his forehead. His expression was grim, shadows of loneliness settling in his eyes.

Back at the table, Iris quietly served Frank some food.

Minutes ticked by, but Julian didn't come out.

Am I too harsh? Too cold?

But if she didn't draw the line so firmly, she knew Julian would keep showing up, keep trying to fix things—and right now, she couldn't handle that.

She picked up her bowl, her appetite gone.

Finally, Julian emerged from the room. He walked over to Frank, ruffled his hair gently, and said, "Take your time eating, buddy. Uncle's got some things to take care of, so I'm gonna head out."

Frank glanced up, his innocent eyes wide. "Okay. Bye, Uncle."

Iris kept her head down, saying nothing. She slowly lifted a bite of rice to her mouth, but even the soft, well-cooked grains felt dry and difficult to swallow.

Julian's gaze lingered on her profile, searching for any reaction, but she gave none.

Her coldness left him feeling hollow inside.

He slipped on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and left.

The moment the door clicked shut, Iris bent over her bowl, tears finally spilling silently into the rice.

Her chest felt tight, like a stone was lodged right beneath her heart, making it hard to breathe.

"I don't need Julian's protection," she told herself. "I can be strong. I can look after Frank and myself just fine."

So why did pushing him away feel so awful?

It was as if a piece of her had been carved out and taken with him.

In the days that followed, before she could find a reliable sitter, Iris took Frank to preschool herself each morning and picked him up every afternoon around five.

She cooked for him, helped him with his letters, and read him bedtime stories.

Frank was a bright, kind-hearted little boy—naturally cheerful, resilient, and wise beyond his years.

Far from feeling like a burden, Frank brought a sense of warmth and purpose into Iris' life.

The week passed quietly, almost peacefully.

True to her word, after her warning, Julian didn't call or text.

Once or twice, she thought she spotted his car parked down the street, but he never got out, never approached her.

Then, on Monday afternoon, Iris arrived at the preschool a little earlier than usual.

At the gate, one of the teachers stopped her with an apologetic smile.

"Frank's already been picked up," she said. "His mom and dad came by for him earlier."

A cold dread washed over Iris.

She stood frozen outside the gate, her hands trembling as anger and fear twisted inside her. Without thinking, she pulled out her phone and dialed Ethan.

He answered after a few rings, but before he could speak, Iris snapped, "Where's Frank?"

There was a long silence on the other end. Then Ethan's voice came through, calm and measured. "Iris... Frank is my son. He's not yours."

Her composure shattered. For the first time in her life, she yelled at her brother, her voice shaking with a rage that scared even her. "Just answer the question, Ethan. Where is he?"