Chapter13
“You’re awake, Julian!”
Bianca Sterling was overwhelmed with joy at first, then burst into tears. “You’re finally awake… If
you hadn’t woken up, I don’t know what I would’ve done. Your parents would’ve hated me forever,
and the guilt would’ve eaten me alive…”
“I never should’ve let you go offer those Blessed Rosary Beads on my behalf. This is all my
fault…”
Julian listened silently, his gaze fixed on the woman he had once treated like a treasure while he
was still lost in amnesia. His voice came out hoarse as he asked:
“Where’s Charlotte?”
Bianca froze, stunned.
Then her eyes turned glassy as she bit her lip, still refusing to give up as she tried to sway him with
tears.
“You’re still thinking about her? Julian, you’ve been in the hospital for so long, and she hasn’t
come to see you once. Not even once! That kind of woman only clings to you when you’re doing well.
The moment you fall from grace, she disappears. Why would you still care about someone like
that?”
“I mean, honestly, ”
“She’s not that kind of person.” Julian cut her off, frowning, his voice steady and resolute.
He knew better than anyone what kind of person Charlotte Wynn was.
“She didn’t come because she’s angry.”
Just thinking about the things he’d done to her while he was lost in that fog of forgetfulness made
his chest feel like it was being crushed in a vice. He couldn’t breathe.
Nearly panicked, he threw off the blanket and climbed out of bed, striding toward the door.
Bianca lunged to stop him, wrapping her arms tightly around him from behind.
Even if she’d been in denial before, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore, not when she saw the clarity in his eyes.
He remembered.
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It was always the same.
As soon as Charlotte came back into his life, there was no room left for anyone else.
Memories surged forward like a wave, moments she’d witnessed far too many times in the years
she chased after Julian Lancaster.
Like the time he fought off a group of punks who were harassing her, only to light up the second Charlotte appeared, rushing over to apologize, “I won’t fight anymore, I promise.”
They would walk side by side, Charlotte wrinkling her nose at the blood on his hands.
He’d awkwardly wipe them clean and then hesitantly reach for her hand.
The sunset would stretch their shadows across the ground, and she’d say softly, “I don’t mind you fighting the bad guys. I’m just scared you’ll get hurt.”
“I could never marry someone who can’t even protect himself.”
She had seen it all. Again and again.
Still choking on tears, Bianca lowered her voice and tried a different approach. “Julian, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blamed Miss Wynn.”
“Maybe she had her reasons for throwing the engagement ring. Maybe the fire wasn’t aimed at me.
Maybe the kidnapping at the engagement party… wasn’t some kind of trick…”
“But you’re still injured. Once you’re better, I’ll go with you to apologize, okay?”
Julian heard the manipulation in her tone a mile away.
He pried her fingers off one by one, his voice cold as ice. “The people who kidnapped you at the engagement party weren’t sent by Charlotte.”
“If she really wanted to hurt you, she wouldn’t have saved you when the two of you were thrown into the ocean. She nearly drowned because of it.”
He closed his eyes, his tone carrying the weight of fatigue and disgust. “Bianca, I’m not going to waste time asking why I ended up in your care after I lost my memory.
Bianca’s expression shattered, piece by piece. “What… did you say?”
Julian gave her one final look, then tore himself away and walked out without looking back.
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“You’re going to find her? Then what am I to you?!” Bianca screamed behind him.
The sound rang in his ears, but Julian didn’t turn around.
A deep dread crawled up from within.
That same question… he had asked himself, too, back when he didn’t remember.
If Charlotte really was the woman he once loved… then what did it mean for the version of him that fell for Bianca Sterling?
It meant he was a traitor.
An unforgivable one.
He couldn’t bear to imagine the look on Charlotte’s face if she refused to forgive him.
She was the girl he’d watched grow up in his arms. The one he had sworn to marry.
He used to flinch whenever she so much as furrowed her brows, yet now, he had hurt her more
deeply than anyone ever could.
The wounds on his body had just begun to scab over.
Now they tore open, bleeding through the hospital gown in vivid crimson.
But he didn’t feel any pain.
He only grabbed the arm of the bodyguard who’d once been assigned to escort Charlotte to the
hospital and croaked out in a voice so raw it barely registered:
“Where is Charlotte?”
The man flinched in fear, his voice trembling. “M–Miss Wynn… was taken away by her family…”
Family.
Now that Logan Westwood was overseas, the Lancaster family had been her home.
Julian shoved the man aside and staggered down the stairs.
He jumped into his car and drove straight for the Lancaster estate.
The engine roared, tires screeching as he pushed the car to its limit.
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When he finally reached the gates, he stumbled out and pounded on the door, blood soaking through his clothes and dripping down to form a shocking pool on the ground.
His strength gave out.
He collapsed in the blood, barely able to lift his head.
But when he looked up and saw the pale, stunned faces of his parents, his voice cracked with
desperation.
“Where’s Charlotte?”
The couple exchanged a look, hearts aching.
Mrs. Lancaster turned her face away. “She… she left the country with Logan.”
“Julian,” Mr. Lancaster said softly. “It’s time to let her go.”
