His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 283: The Farewell Letter

Brandon didn't fully grasp what was going on, but his eyes softened with sympathy as he watched Iris.

Her own eyes were heavy with sorrow. She held Brandon's hand tightly. "I don't have my ID, my phone, or any money on me. Please—I need to get out of here."

"Okay," Brandon replied gently, glancing down at her rounded belly. "But you're so close to your due date. If you take off without a word to the baby's father, he's going to lose his mind looking for you."

Iris gave a bitter shake of her head. "He knows I've wanted to leave for a long time. If he hadn't stopped me before, I would've been overseas already. This time... he won't come after me. And he won't lose his mind over it."

Brandon still didn't really understand, but he stayed quiet, his gaze steady on her face.

Iris closed her eyes. Tears traced paths down her pale cheeks, one after another. Her voice came out cracked but clear. "He'll probably end up hating me."

"You should at least tell him," Brandon urged softly. "If someone's trying to hurt you or the baby—"

"What if that someone is his own father?" Iris cut in, her tone raw. "Would you want him to have to face his dad like that?"

Brandon drew back slightly, stunned. "Why would a grandfather want to harm his grandchild?"

"Exactly—I don't have proof. Maybe it's not him at all." Iris steadied her breathing, speaking slowly now. "But that's also why I can't stay with Julian anymore. I won't live like a bird in a gilded cage, protected but trapped."

"I get it," Brandon said after a moment. "I respect your choice." He helped her walk until they reached a busy street, then waved down a cab and slid into the backseat with her.

Inside the car, Iris rested her hands on her stomach, feeling the faint movements within. That cold, shaken feeling of someone who'd narrowly escaped danger still lingered in her bones.

She looked out the window, Julian's face floating into her mind—those deep, warm eyes full of love, for her and for their child.

Part of her wondered if she should go back. Face whatever was coming together, let him protect her, build a life as a family.

But Iris had never wanted just a simple, quiet happiness.

She had her own dreams waiting for her.

She wouldn't give up who she was and what she longed for, not even for Julian's shelter.

What she wanted was to fly free, like a hawk soaring high above.

Iris lifted her gaze to the sky outside the window—endless, clear, and blue.

*****

The security guard explained he'd only stepped away for a few minutes to use the restroom. When he returned, Iris was gone.

Julian checked the surveillance footage.

The camera at the gate only showed Iris walking forward, phone in hand, before she moved out of frame about fifty yards out.

After that, she vanished.

None of the other street cameras picked her up anywhere.

Julian was frantic. All composure left him. He called the police and hired over a hundred private security personnel to comb the area.

He didn't stop, didn't rest, searching through the day and deep into the night—close to losing his mind with worry.

Early the next morning, Freya received a local delivery and immediately called Julian.

He rushed back to the villa, took the package from her, and sank onto the living room couch to open it.

Inside was a single letter.

It was in Iris' handwriting. He'd loved watching her write ever since high school, knew the shape of every curve and line better than anyone.

The first sentence read, "Julian, I'm leaving."

Those words hit him like a physical blow. His long fingers began to tremble. His handsome face, already worn from a sleepless night, went stark and ashen, eyes rimmed with red.

For a second, he couldn't bring himself to keep reading.

His chest felt carved open, raw and bleeding, the kind of pain that made it hard to breathe. He forced in a slow breath and made himself continue.

"Don't come looking for me. Even if you find me, I'll only run again. And again. However many times it takes.

"You could keep me here, but you can't keep my heart.

"I'm grateful—for all those years you loved me. Since high school, before I even knew your name. You loved me quietly for over a decade.

"I can't love you back the same way. I'm sorry.

"Julian, let me go.

"The baby is part yours, but please let me raise him.

"We were never meant to be. You can't force something like this—it only ends in hurt.

"So goodbye.

"Maybe in another life, let me be the one who falls for you first. Let me be the one chasing you, and you can be the one to walk away.

"Forget about me. Forget about the baby.

"I hope we never meet again.

"And remember—you have to be happy.

"From Iris, who never loved you."

Julian's hand slowly clenched, crumpling the paper tightly. His heart felt hollowed out, scraped raw.

He leaned back against the couch, head tilted up, eyes shut tight. Tears escaped from the corners of his eyes and trailed down his temples.

His lips parted on a shaky exhale. Then came a low, rough laugh—cold and sharp. "Never loved me?"

He opened his eyes. They were bloodshot, swollen with a pain too heavy to hold. He swiped angrily at his tears, but nothing could wipe away the bleeding inside.

He tore the crumpled letter into pieces, tossed them into the air, and watched them drift slowly to the floor—like the shattered fragments of his heart.

When he stood up, his legs almost gave way. He stumbled forward a few steps before catching himself, bracing a hand against the wall.