His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 323: Fireworks by the Lake

Iris' chest tightened so painfully that her hands trembled. Two hot tears streaked down her cheeks and splashed onto her thighs. She quickly dashed them away and sniffled, tilting her head back as if that could steady her breathing. Her lungs felt heavy, clogged with emotion, making each breath a struggle.

She gave a faint, almost imperceptible wave. The bodyguard understood and retreated to the seat beside hers.

A few minutes later, Julian returned with Harper in his arms. He was grinning as he sat down. "After all that browsing, she only picked a tiny turtle."

Iris forced a smile, turning to Harper. "What kind of turtle is it?"

Harper held up her palm, revealing a delicate glass figurine. "Look, Mommy. Isn't it cute?"

It was a colorful trinket—small as a peanut, undeniably charming.

Julian chuckled. "She's frugal, just like you. Only fifty cents."

When his gaze shifted to Iris, his amusement faded. He leaned in, his large hand gently cupping her cheek. "Your eyes are red. Were you crying?"

Iris pressed her lips together and shook her head. "No, just ... allergies. I rubbed them too hard."

Julian didn't look convinced, but he slowly withdrew his hand.

Lunch ran late. Afterward, they strolled a bit before heading home.

By then, the annual Thanksgiving dinner at the town hall was in full swing. The banquet hall buzzed with chatter and laughter.

The Everhart family, a household name known for their wealth and charitable work, commanded deep respect—not just in town, but across the state. People admired them for their generosity, and tonight, they sat at the head table, where local officials kept stopping by to pay their respects.

Julian, of course, had to play the part.

Iris sat at his side, watching him down two shots of bourbon. When he reached for a third, she instinctively placed a hand on his wrist.

The noise was deafening, so Julian leaned down, puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"Don't drink anymore, okay?" Her voice was barely audible.

He set the glass down. "Fine. I'll stop."

Iris fell silent.

Julian turned to her, studying her face under the warm glow of the chandeliers. "You've been off ever since we got back. Something on your mind?"

She shook her head. "No."

Just then, a man in work-stained denim approached with a drink in hand—the owner of a local farm. His face lit up as he addressed them. "Mr. and Mrs. Everhart..."

Iris stiffened at the title, but the man beamed, raising his glass. "I can't thank your family enough. Thanks to your donations, the new roads made it so much easier to get my crops to market. If not for you, I'd still be struggling." He took a humble sip. "Let me toast you first."

Julian lifted his cup instead. "My wife's cutting me off, so I'll stick to juice."

His wife.

The words lingered in Iris' chest, stirring something she couldn't name.

She watched Julian navigate the room with ease. Even here, among simple townsfolk who worked with their hands, he belonged. No airs, no superiority—just warmth and genuine ease. He blended right in, as if this were where he'd always been.

Maybe it was his upbringing. Leonard and Beatrice had raised him well, their legacy evident in every interaction.

Then her gaze drifted to Caleb and Jenny.

They sat apart, phones in hand, visibly bored. They picked at the food with disdain, completely uninterested in the people around them.

Night deepened.

A full moon climbed into the sky, casting silver light across the lake. Villagers gathered along the shore, admiring the reflection and waiting for the show.

Then—shhh-boom!

Fireworks erupted, vibrant bursts of color cutting through the dark, mirrored in the rippling water. Children gasped, cheers rising like echoes.

Julian held Harper, now fast asleep against his shoulder, as he and Iris stood side by side at the water's edge. They'd seen grander displays in the city, but tonight's was different—somehow, more beautiful.

The finale exploded in a cascade of gold, like stardust raining onto the lake.

Julian looked at Iris, his voice soft. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

She smiled faintly. "Yeah. So beautiful." She hesitated. "Maybe when I'm old, I'll retire somewhere like this."

Julian's lips curled. "You can. I'll come with you."

Iris didn't answer. The thought felt unreal—too fragile to hold. Who knew what the future would bring?

As the last glow faded, the crowd thinned.

Julian and Iris walked home shoulder to shoulder, the bodyguards trailing at a respectful distance.