Better Late, But Never His Again novel Chapter 132

Julian raised his hand, but just as his fingertips were about to brush Hazel's cheek, she took a step back.

It was such a natural avoidance that Julian's hand froze in midair. His fingers curled slightly before he slowly pulled back.

The expression on the man's face stiffened for a fraction of a second before morphing back into his usual gentle demeanor, a soft smile resting on his lips.

"Sweetheart, don't be angry anymore. I will help you find that letter. Trust me, okay?"

Hazel looked down at him. From this angle, she could see his expression perfectly clearly. Those eyes were brimming with concern—he really was putting on an excellent performance.

"How are you going to find it?" Hazel asked. "The sanitation trucks have already hauled everything away. That letter was disposed of with the rest of the trash. Julian, how exactly are you going to cover for Evelyn this time?"

Julian's brow furrowed. He stood up from the sofa, gripping her shoulders with both hands in an attempt to explain himself. "Sweetheart, why do you have such a deep misunderstanding of me?"

His tone always seemed to carry a faint trace of helplessness, as if she were the only one being entirely unreasonable. "My actions toward Evelyn are purely out of our past friendship. I've never intentionally taken her side."

Hazel let out a soft scoff. He claimed he had never intentionally protected Evelyn.

Then what did he call locking her in the guest bedroom, sealing the windows shut, and forcing her to apologize to Evelyn? He probably didn't even believe his own words.

She didn't want to say anything else.

"I'm tired." Hazel took a step back, breaking free from his grip. "I want to go back to my room and rest."

Julian immediately followed her, his tone growing overly attentive. "Let me carry you upstairs."

Hazel's voice was completely deadpan.

"No need. I just want to be alone. Don't follow me."

Julian stood rooted to the spot, watching her silhouette ascend the stairs step by step. His brow furrowed deeply, his chest feeling as if a giant hand had ruthlessly yanked at his heart.

He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

The moment the call connected, his voice turned ice-cold.

"Speed up the search. Overturn the entire city dump if you have to, but I want that letter found."

Hazel didn't hear that command. She pushed open the door to the guest bedroom and walked in.

The lights were off, and the curtains were half-drawn, allowing moonlight to spill through the gaps. She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly, much like how her heart had violently plummeted.

The room was incredibly quiet. She could hear her own breathing.

A heavy boulder seemed to press down on her chest. She took a deep breath, yet the suffocating sensation remained.

Sitting there, fragments of her past drifted into her mind.

Since she was very little, she knew she was the neglected one in her family. During dinner, the best food was always placed in front of her brother. When buying new clothes for the holidays, her brother always got first pick, while she wore the hand-me-downs. No one thought anything was wrong with that, and she never once complained.

She was terrified that if she spoke up, she would lose even the leftover scraps.

So, no matter how deeply wronged she felt, she endured it silently, only crying in secret when no one was around.

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