He Realized Her Too Late Novel – On the eve of the wedding, my half-sister suffered a depressive episode. My childhood fiancé ignored my desperate pleas and tore apart the wedding gown our mother had carefully made for me before she passed. He did this in an attempt to calm her down. He glared at me in anger. “Isabella has nothing left.
Why would you flaunt that gown to upset her? Are you trying to push her over the edge?” I stared at the mess on the floor, numb with pain. After cleaning up, I called my professor. “Dr. Wright, about the three-year overseas exchange program you mentioned before, I’m willing to go.” — After dropping the gown off at Starlight Bridal Boutique for repairs, I returned home alone. But when I stood in front of the familiar villa in Crestwood Hills, I couldn’t open the door. My stomach sank.
Had Julian changed the password? The next moment, the door swung open. To my surprise, the person I saw was Isabella. She looked as if she had just stepped out of the shower, wearing a bathrobe, with wet hair dripping at the ends. She stood there with an air of authority, as if she were the lady of the house. “Lydia, you’re back! Come in, hurry!” She dashed over and affectionately looped her arm through mine.
“Sorry, Lydia, I forgot to tell you that the password was changed.” “Julian was worried about me being alone, so he insisted I stay here for a bit.” “I’m so scatterbrained. I kept forgetting the old code, so he just set it to my birthday to make it easier.” I pushed Isabella’s hand away, and my heart felt as if a heavy hand had gripped it, dull pain spreading through my chest. Two years ago, my father had kicked me out of the house.
Julian bought this villa and set the password to the day we officially became a couple. He had said to me himself, “Lydia, from now on, this is your new home, a place for you and me alone.” But now, he seemed to have forgotten those words. “Your hair’s still wet. What if you catch a cold?” A chiding tone snapped me out of my thoughts. Julian walked over with a towel, gently drying Isabella’s hair. “Julian, Lydia is watching.
You shouldn’t be like this,” Isabella said, shrinking under my gaze, a hint of panic on her face. Julian paused briefly, frowning impatiently when our eyes met. “What are you standing there for? Hurry up and go make us some food.” I drew a deep breath and replied evenly, “If you want to eat, make it yourself.” But as I stepped forward, Julian blocked my way. “What’s with that attitude?” “If you hadn’t upset Isabella with that gown and triggered her episode, I wouldn’t have had to bring her here to look after her.” “Is it really too much to ask for you to make her a meal?” At the mention of the “wedding gown,” it felt like a needle pierced my heart.
Tears instantly welled up. “Wasn’t it her who sneaked into my room? Isn’t destroying my gown for her enough? Now you expect me to serve her? Why should I?” “Because you’re her sister,” Julian said coldly. “Besides, it’s just a dress. It’s ruined now. I’ll buy you a new one.” “What did you say?” I gritted my teeth, staring at him in disbelief. He knew exactly what that gown meant. It wasn’t just a keepsake from my mother, but a blessing for both of us. Realizing he had misspoken, Julian’s eyes flickered, and he opened his mouth as if to say something.
But Isabella darted between us. “Lydia, please don’t fight with Julian because of me,” she begged. “I know it’s all my fault. You can hit me if it makes you feel better. Do anything to me!” Her voice grew more frantic, tears streaming down, as she grabbed my hand and slapped it against her own face. I winced in pain. The hand I had injured earlier that afternoon while struggling over the scissors bled again under her tight grip. Just as I tried to pull away, Julian yanked me aside.
Caught off guard, I stumbled and slammed my back against a nearby shelf, gasping in pain. “Julian, my face hurts so much,” Isabella cried. Julian immediately tensed at her words. He cupped her face, his eyes searching until they found the faint red mark at the corner of her mouth. The pain in my back hadn’t even faded when a searing sting shot through my palm. I realized the bandage on my right hand was completely soaked with blood.
Julian didn’t even look at me. He glared at me and turned to tend to Isabella’s injury. I watched his back and let out a bitter laugh. He used to be most concerned about me. Even the smallest scrape would make him worry. But ever since Isabella came back home, there was no longer any space for me in his eyes. I closed my stinging, weary eyes and dragged my exhausted body to the guest bedroom.