His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 305: The Gummy Bear Question

Iris shook her head. "Not this time."

Harper pouted, clearly disappointed. "But Daddy took his medicine—why doesn't he get a treat?"

Iris sighed, glancing helplessly toward Julian for support.

Instead of backing her up, Julian gave a slow, serious nod. "She's got a point."

Letting out a soft breath, Iris kept her tone gentle, trying to smooth things over. "Next time, okay? I promise I'll bring something next time."

Harper cupped Julian's face and turned him toward Iris. "Mommy, is that really it?"

Iris felt her cheeks grow warm. She picked up the water glass from the nightstand and turned toward the door. "I'm just going to rinse this out."

As she hurried out, Harper called after her, "Mommy, you didn't give Daddy a kiss!"

Iris didn't look back, slipping quickly into the hallway.

Once they were alone, Julian pulled Harper a little closer and asked quietly, almost to himself, "Why would she kiss me?"

Harper wrapped her small arms around his neck, her voice sweet and sincere. "Because you were good, Daddy. You took your medicine without complaining, and you didn't even get a cookie or anything."

A faint chuckle escaped him. "How does Mommy usually kiss you when you're good?"

Harper placed both hands on his cheeks, leaned in, and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. In a singsong voice she recited, "Good Daddy, best Daddy, Harper loves Daddy the most!"

Julian's lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile, but he said nothing else.

The medicine soon took effect, and before long, Julian drifted into a deep sleep.

Iris spent the next hour tidying the living room, putting away Harper's toys, and giving the whole villa a light clean.

When lunchtime rolled around, she peeked into the bedroom and found him still sleeping soundly, so she decided not to disturb him.

Late that night, Julian finally stirred.

The room was completely dark, save for the pale moonlight filtering through the windows. His fever had broken, his body felt lighter, and his mind was clearer than it had been all day.

He pushed back the covers, switched on the bedside lamp, and stretched his stiff shoulders before slipping his feet into slippers and heading out of the room.

Downstairs, the living room lights were still on. He made his way slowly down the staircase.

Harper was sitting cross-legged on the rug by the coffee table, completely absorbed in coloring on several sheets of blank paper.

Julian's eyes swept across the open living area. His gaze dimmed slightly, and an unmistakable wave of disappointment settled in his chest.

He walked over and took a seat on the sofa near where Harper was playing.

She looked up. "Daddy, you're awake!"

He offered a small smile. "Yeah, I'm up."

"You should eat dinner," Harper announced matter-of-factly. "You have to take medicine after dinner, too." She set down her crayon, scrambled to her feet, and placed a small hand on his forehead, then on her own. With all the seriousness a child could muster, she declared, "You're still sick, Daddy. After your medicine, you need more rest."

Julian wrapped his hand around her warm little fingers. "Did you already eat, Harper?"

She nodded. "Mm-hmm."

He glanced over her—she was dressed in fresh, cute pajamas covered in cartoon characters. "Did you take a bath already?"

"Mommy helped me. She washed my hair, too. Wanna smell?" Harper tilted her head toward him.

Julian leaned in slightly and breathed in the clean, gentle scent of her shampoo. A fond smile touched his lips. "You smell really nice, sweetheart. All fresh and clean."

Harper beamed, her eyes curving into happy crescents. "I know, I smell so good!"

He gave her head an affectionate pat before letting his eyes travel around the room once more.

As Harper began to wriggle out of his lap to return to her coloring, Julian gently pulled her back against him. Holding her small frame close, he lowered his voice. "Harper... where's Mommy right now?"

"She's in her room," Harper replied, pointing toward the second-floor guest room.

Julian followed her gesture. The room she indicated was the same one Iris had stayed in during her pregnancy.

He gave Harper one more soft pat. "Go ahead and play, honey."

Then he rose and made his way upstairs, his steps steady and quiet.

Inside that same guest room, Iris had just finished showering. She'd changed into clean clothes she'd left here from a previous stay and had towel-dried her long hair until it was barely damp.

As she pulled the bathroom door open and looked up, the sight of the man standing right outside startled her badly.

For a second, her heart hammered wildly against her ribs. She took an instinctive step back, her breath catching, pupils widening slightly in surprise.

When she realized it was Julian, her heartbeat only sped up further. A nervous, almost guilty tension tightened in her chest.

He stood perfectly still, his tall frame imposing, his expression unreadable and his eyes frosty. The air around him felt heavy, charged with a distant, unapproachable coldness.

"I..." Iris stumbled over her words, struggling to explain. "I got my clothes wet giving Harper a bath, so I...I just took a quick shower here."

Julian's voice was icy. "Is this your house?"

The words hit her like a physical weight. She swallowed, dropping her gaze. "No."

"Then who said you could use the shower in my home?"

Iris looked down, fingers nervously twisting the hem of her shirt. "I'm sorry."

Julian watched her in silence, his eyes fixed on her, intense and unmoving.

Under that stare, Iris felt a chill spread through her. The discomfort grew until she couldn't bear it. "I'm sorry," she repeated softly. "It won't happen again."

She made to step past him, careful to keep space between them.

But as she moved by, Julian's hand shot out, closing around her arm. He pulled her back firmly, turning and pinning her against the wall just outside the bathroom door.

The force was jarring—a dull ache spread through her arm, and her back throbbed from the impact.

His anger seemed to wrap around her like a net, his presence overpowering and cold, making it hard to draw a full breath.

Her heart raced, but she forced herself to meet his eyes, trying to keep her expression calm.

Julian braced one hand against the wall beside her head, looking down with a cold, narrowed gaze. The corner of his mouth lifted in a faint, humorless smirk.

"You think," he said, his voice low and deliberate, "there's going to be a next time?"