His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 328: Who Tried to Kill the Baby?

Iris looked down at his fist—the skin over his knuckles was scraped raw, with thin streaks of blood beginning to seep through. Her chest tightened with a sharp pang of sympathy.

"Are you out of your mind?" she cried, turning toward Julian. "Why would you do something like that to yourself?"

Julian let out a heavy, ragged breath. He grabbed both of her arms, his eyes burning red and wet with barely contained emotion. It looked like he was fighting hard to keep himself together, but his chest felt like it was full of broken glass.

"Iris," he demanded, his voice trembling with anger and hurt, each word deliberate, "why are you treating me this way? What do I have to do to make you trust me—completely? When something this awful happened to you, why didn't you come to me first? Why did you just... leave?"

Her heart felt like it was being sliced open. Seeing his tear-filled eyes and the pain written across his face was pushing her toward her own breaking point.

Back then, she had been terrified. Thinking clearly was impossible. All she wanted was to protect herself—to protect their baby. And leaving had felt like the quickest, surest way to do that.

Julian's voice was rough and choked, thick with grief. "I've never been your first choice. You never tell me anything. When your stepmom gave you a hard time, when Lily bullied you, when my father pressured you—even when it felt like the whole world was against you—you'd rather swallow it all down than talk to me. When you were looking into your birth parents, you went to Zoe instead of me. When my dad forced you into a divorce, you gave in without saying a word. And this time..." His voice cracked. "This time it wasn't just about you. The baby you were carrying was mine."

He grew more agitated, the words rising in volume, raw with pain. "That was my child, Iris. Mine. So why... why when you were in real danger, did you still keep me in the dark? What am I to you? Am I just useless? A burden? Or..." His voice broke completely. "Or just some stranger who doesn't matter at all?"

A tear escaped, tracing a path down his tense, ashen cheek.

Iris' arms ached under his grip. Her whole body felt weak, but the hurt inside was so much worse—so deep it was hard to breathe.

"I'm sorry, Julian," she whispered, tears now falling freely. She felt utterly torn apart. Gasping slightly between sobs, she repeated, "I'm so sorry. I was just... scared. I was afraid your father might have been involved. You're his son..."

Julian cut her off, his words ground out between clenched teeth. "That baby would have called me Dad. Even if it had been my own father, I wouldn't have hesitated. I would've put him behind bars myself."

Iris closed her eyes. Tears kept coming, one after another. Her head dropped weakly forward. "I'm sorry..." she murmured again into the space between them.

Julian couldn't bear to see her cry.

His own heart felt shattered. He pulled her firmly into his arms and held her close. "Don't apologize," he said into her hair, voice low. "This is on me. I didn't earn your trust. I couldn't protect you... or our baby. I'm the one who's sorry. All of this is my fault."

Iris cried against his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist as if she were finally releasing years of pent-up pain and loneliness.

Julian closed his eyes and gently rubbed her back, slowly settling himself. After a long moment, he asked quietly, "That package you mailed me before you left... that was from you, right?"

"Yes," Iris answered, her voice still thick with tears.

"And you wrote the letter inside?"

"I did."

"If you were going to leave anyway, why send a letter like that? Why make me think you just walked away on your own?"

"I wanted you to let go. I didn't want you looking for me."

"So does that mean you never really loved me?"

Iris held him tighter and shook her head firmly against him.

Julian buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in the soft scent of her hair, drawing comfort from her closeness. "Shaking your head doesn't tell me much," he murmured, voice still rough. "Did you love me or not?"

Iris nodded.

"Use your words, Iris. Did you love me?"

"I did," she said, the sincerity clear even through her crying. "And I still do."

Julian's arms tightened around her gradually, as if he wanted to melt her into his very being. He stayed there, face pressed against her shoulder, his warm breath brushing her skin.

Their breathing slowly synchronized. Their warmth blended together.

Then, barely above a whisper, he asked, "What about Brandon?"

Iris went still. For a second she wondered if she'd heard him right.

"He saved your life—and our daughter's. He transferred to Edulet City because of you. Took care of you for over a year." Julian's voice was heavy, tinged with something melancholy. "A man doesn't do all that without feeling something more than pity. So... did you love him?"

Iris pressed her lips together, a bitter taste in her mouth. She shook her head. "No. He was like an older brother to me. I just..." She hesitated, struggling to explain the feeling.

It was a kind of closeness, sure. Gratitude, definitely. Affection, too. But it wasn't romantic love—it was simpler than that, clean and uncomplicated. Being around him had felt easy, comfortable.

After a pause, she added softly, "It wasn't love."

Julian stayed quiet.

As a man, he found it hard to believe Brandon didn't have feelings for Iris. What ordinary friend goes that far?

And he found it just as hard to believe Iris wasn't moved by it all.

His heart kept aching, sharp and persistent, like a blade scraping inside him.

"Your hand," Iris said gently, pulling back just enough to look at him. "It's hurt. Let me take care of it for you."