His Belated Love for the Abandoned Ex-Wife Chapter 345: A Sweet Reconciliation

His voice came out rough and low, with a quiet laugh woven through it as he murmured, "Iris, you're different today."

"Don't touch me," Iris mumbled into the pillow.

But Julian did more than touch her—he nuzzled against the curve of her neck. His large hand settled around her waist, drawing her firmly toward him. He breathed in her clean, familiar scent, his Adam's apple bobbing once before he spoke again, his tone gravelly and intimate. "I'm sorry, Iris. I didn't realize you were waiting up. It won't happen again. From now on, I'll come straight home when I'm done, okay? Don't stay mad at me."

"No."

"Then what do I need to do?" Julian tightened his hold, brushing light kisses along her cheek. "Tell me. I'll do anything if it means you're not upset with me."

Iris pushed his face away gently. "You're all dusty. Go take a shower. I'm trying to sleep."

Julian leaned in and pecked the corner of her mouth twice. His voice softened. "Alright, I'll go clean up now."

He got up without another word and headed to the closet for his sleepwear.

Only when the bathroom door clicked shut did Iris finally let out a long, slow breath.

It was strange—the angrier she acted, the more flustered Julian seemed to become.

He didn't sound annoyed in the slightest. If anything, he seemed genuinely eager to coax her out of her mood.

She couldn't quite wrap her head around it.

But the saying "guys understand guys" was starting to feel truer by the minute.

A short while later, Julian stepped out of the shower.

Iris quickly shut her eyes and steadied her breathing, feigning sleep.

Her body stayed tense under the covers. She felt the mattress dip, then the blankets lift as he slipped in behind her. His arm wrapped around her middle, tugging her gently back against his warm, solid frame.

The fresh, clean scent of his soap filled the space between them. He nuzzled the nape of her neck, his voice a soft rasp near her ear. "Iris... still mad at me?"

Iris shook her head slightly.

"Then what's it gonna take?" he whispered.

"I can't just drop it tonight," Iris replied, keeping her tone cool. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Julian chuckled at her stubbornness, his breath warm against her skin. He placed another kiss on her cheek. "Is it really that big a deal? Me forgetting to call and coming home late?"

"Of course it is," Iris insisted, doubling down on the act.

There was a pause before Julian asked, a tinge of bitterness in his voice, "If you care so much, how come you were all over Brandon yesterday?"

Iris went still.

So he had seen them last night. That explained the chill in his demeanor this morning—the jealousy, the quiet frustration. He must have misunderstood.

No wonder he'd been so distant earlier.

Irritation flashed through her. She pulled his hand off her and turned to face him, this time genuinely upset. "You're doubting me?"

Julian met her eyes, uncertainty flickering across his face. "I'm not doubting you, but the two of you—"

"You are doubting me." Iris sat up, threw the covers aside, and moved to get out of bed.

Julian caught her wrist immediately, pulling her back into his embrace. "Where are you going?"

"To sleep on the couch."

Panic edged into his movements. He held her tighter. "I'm sorry. This is on me. I shouldn't have questioned you. Please don't be mad. I trust you."

"Do you really?" Iris shot back.

Julian wrapped his arms around her more securely, closing his eyes as he buried his face in her hair. "Yes. I trust you."

It turned out that most misunderstandings didn't need proof to be cleared up.

Sometimes all it took was speaking up, putting up a little fight—and no matter what she said, he'd believe her completely.

Maybe he loved her too much. Maybe it made him feel vulnerable.

Even if the evidence seemed obvious, if she denied it, Julian would choose her word over everything else.

Her mind drifted back to that misunderstanding years ago.

If she had been more direct back then—if she had gotten upset like this, pushed back against all those rumors and late nights—Julian would probably have been wrapped around her finger a lot sooner.

She remembered him saying once during that difficult time. "If you showed me just a little initiative, I'd forgive you in a heartbeat."

But she'd done the opposite. She'd played it cool, acted unbothered, even told him to be careful about hygiene.

That had set him off for real.

Now it all made sense.

With a man who loved you deeply, this kind of back-and-forth was just another form of closeness.

What he wanted was to feel wanted. To be needed. To get a reaction from her.

She'd just been too reserved back then.

The memories washed over her, bringing a dull ache to her chest—a mix of tenderness and regret. Her eyes stung suddenly. She turned and buried her face in Julian's chest, wrapping both arms tightly around his waist.

Julian stiffened for a moment, then looked down at the hair pressed against him. He couldn't help but kiss the top of her head, his voice rough with emotion. "Not mad anymore?"

Iris shook her head again. "Still mad. I'll forgive you tomorrow."

Julian let out a quiet laugh, rich with warmth and affection. He hugged her closer. "Staying upset isn't good for you. You really able to sleep like this?"

"Mm-hmm."

"What if I want you tonight?" His hand slid beneath her shirt.

Iris reached down, caught his wrist, and gently guided it away. "No. I'm still mad."

"Can't change your mind tonight?"

"Nope."

"So I've gotta try again tomorrow?"

"Yep."

Julian couldn't hold back a soft chuckle. He drew her even closer, tucking her firmly against him, and kissed her forehead. "Iris," he whispered, "you're so cute tonight."

Buried in his embrace, Iris frowned, eyes still closed. She felt a little silly acting this way.

And yet Julian truly seemed to find it endearing.

With her logically wired, analytical mind, she couldn't fully make sense of it.

But wrapped in his arms, she eventually drifted into sleep.

The next morning, Iris was stirred awake by the sound of her phone ringing.