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17kNovel > Goodbye Forever Ex-Husband > Ex wife bye 94

Ex wife bye 94

    <b>Chapter </b>94


    OLIVIA’S POV


    20


    <b>“</b><b>Ever </b><b>since </b><b>I’ve </b>known you, all the times we used to meet up at the café, and even the times you came over to my ce to stay, I never once saw your ankle,” Julian said, his voice strangely soft yet serious.


    I blinked at him<b>, </b>confused.


    What <b>was </b>he on about now? Why was he suddenly talking about my ankle of all things?


    “What does that have to do with any of this?<b>” </b><b>I </b>asked, my tone a little sharper than I intended.


    He took a <b>slow </b>breath, looking almost pained to continue.


    “On the left side of your <b>lower </b>ankle, there should be a small scar,” he said quietly, “a tiny mark, but it’s there<b>.” </b>


    <b>A </b>cold chill ran down my spine.


    He <b>wasn’t </b>lying.


    There <b>was </b>a <b>scar </b>there.


    <b>A </b><b>scar </b>I had had for <b>as </b>long <b>as </b>I could remember, hidden away, something I had never thought much about.


    And more importantly, it <b>was </b>something I had never shown to anyone–not even my closest friends.


    “How do you know about that?” I asked cautiously, taking an involuntary step back. “I’ve had this <b>scar </b>since<b>… </b>forever, but I haven’t shown it to anyone. So how could you possibly know?”


    Julian’s eyes <b>were </b><b>ssy </b><b>as </b>he took another slow, deliberate step <b>closer</b><b>, </b>almost like he <b>was </b>scared I would run away if he moved too fast.


    “I know because…” He swallowed hard, his voice thick with emotion. “Because I’m the reason you have that <b>scar</b>. <b>It </b>was my fault. My carelessness. I <b>wasn’t </b>watching you like I <b>was </b>supposed to.”


    For a moment, the room around us blurred.


    My mind screamed at me to deny it<b>, </b><b>to </b><b>say </b>it <b>wasn’t </b>possible, that it was all some massive <b>mistake</b>.


    But deep <b>down</b><b>, </b>something inside of me–the same part that <b>always </b>felt an inexplicable closeness to Julian<b>–</b>whispered that he <b>was </b>telling the truth.


    How else would he know about something so personal? So hidden?


    <b>Slowly</b>, I bent down and untied my <b>sneakers</b>.


    I peeled them off along with my socks<b>, </b><b>exposing </b>my <b>bare </b>ankle.


    There <b>it </b><b>was</b><b>–</b>the <b>faint</b><b>, </b>almost <b>crescent</b>–<b>shaped </b><b>scar</b>, right where he <b>said </b>it would be.


    <b>The </b><b>air </b>in the room <b>grew </b><b>heavy</b>.


    Julian’s shoulders dropped as <b>if </b><b>a </b>huge weight <b>had </b>been lifted but <b>reced </b>with a different kind of burden.


    <b>“</b><b>See</b><b>?</b><b>” </b>he said, his <b>voice </b>cracking <b>with </b>emotion. “I’m not lying to you. I could never lie about something this important. Olivia, you <b>have </b>no idea how much guilt <b>I’ve </b><b>carried </b><b>all </b>these <b>years</b>. The person <b>I’d </b>been searching for my whole <b>life </b><b>was </b>right <b>beside </b>me, and <b>I </b>didn’t <b>even </b>know. Mom and <b>Dad</b>… they <b>were </b>broken when <b>you </b>disappeared. Everyone in the family <b>was</b><b>. </b>They <b>never </b><b>gave </b><b>up </b>hope<b>. </b>And neither did <b>I</b><b>, </b>even <b>after </b>everyone believed that <b>you </b><b>were </b><b>dead </b>


    <b>Tears </b>filled my eyes, <b>blurring </b>my vision <b>as </b>I <b>stared </b>at him.


    Was this why we <b>always </b>had <b>such </b>a strong bond?


    Why do we seem <b>to </b>understand each other without even needing words?


    Why he had <b>always </b>been there<b>, </b><b>even </b>when he didn’t <b>have </b>to be?


    <b>It </b><b>all </b><b>made </b>sense now.


    The pieces of the puzzle that never seemed to fit before <b>were </b>finally sliding <b>into </b><b>ce</b><b>. </b>


    <b>“</b><b>I </b>wouldn’t lie to <b>you </b>about something like this, Olivia<b>,</b>” he said softly. “But… <b>if </b>you still have doubts–and honestly, <b>I </b>wouldn’t me you–<b>we </b>can


    <b>11:35 </b><b>AM </b>


    go to a hospital right now. We can take a DNA <b>test</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>


    I wiped the tears from my cheeks, trying <b>to </b>gather myself.


    My <b>voice </b><b>was </b><b>shaky </b>when I answered, “I would really like <b>that</b><b>… </b>please. I need to know for sure. Before <b>I </b>get my hopes up and… and have them crushed.”


    He nodded firmly, <b>as </b><b>if </b>silently promising me he would <b>stay </b>by my side no matter what.


    Julian quickly cleaned his <b>face </b>up with the sleeve of his shirt, his expression hardening with determination. He then gestured toward the door, silently urging me to follow him.


    We <b>walked </b>out of the orphanage <b>office </b>together, the weight of what just happened sitting heavy on both of our shoulders<b>. </b>


    It felt like the ground beneath my feet had shifted,


    Once <b>we </b><b>got </b>to the <b>car</b>, I turned to him again, needing to make one thing clear.


    “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” I said, fastening my seatbelt. “But all this information you’re telling me… <b>it </b>came from people I don’t know. People I didn’t choose to trust. You know your investigators, you trust them, but I don’t. So <b>if </b><b>we’re </b>going to do this, it needs to be with someone I trust.


    Someone neutral.”


    Julian nodded without hesitation.


    “Of course<b>,</b>” he said.


    The past few months had made me develop serious trust <b>issues</b><b>, </b><b>especially </b>with people I didn’t know very well.


    I had seen too much – betrayal, lies<b>, </b>maniption. Everyone could be bought.


    Anyone could pretend to be someone they weren’t for the right price.


    I didn’t want what happened outside the café to repeat itself.


    Even though Adrian might seem calm on the outside, I knew just how far he <b>was </b>willing to go to get what he wanted.


    <b>I </b>couldn’t afford another mistake. Not when everything felt <b>so </b>fragile.


    We <b>got </b>to the hospital in no time<b>, </b>the drive passing in a blur of nervous silence.


    The tension in the <b>car </b><b>was </b>so thick it could be cut with a knife<b>. </b>


    <b>As </b><b>we </b>pulled into the parking lot, my <b>fingers </b>gripped the <b>seatbelt </b>tightly<b>, </b>trying <b>to </b><b>steady </b>my racing heart.


    I had already decided to request the help <b>of </b>someone <b>I </b>trusted


    someone I knew wasn’t under anyone’s influence<b>. </b>


    The same doctor who <b>had </b>helped me when I <b>lost </b>my <b>first </b>child.


    <b>Dr. </b>James might not have been someone I had known for many <b>years</b>, but he had proven himself when <b>I </b>was at my <b>lowest</b>.


    That counted for something<b>. </b>


    As we walked into the hospital, I immediately spotted him standing <b>at </b>the reception <b>desk</b>, deep in conversation with one of the nurses.


    His white <b>coat</b><b>, </b><b>neatly </b>pressed,


    <b>It </b><b>didn’t </b><b>take </b>long before his <b>gaze </b>met mine, and a warm smile <b>spread </b><b>across </b>his <b>face</b>.


    <b>“</b>Olivia<b>, </b>good to see you <b>again</b>,” <b>Dr. </b><b>James </b>said, walking <b>toward </b>me <b>with </b>open arms.


    <b>“</b>Good to see you too, Doc,” I replied<b>, </b><b>returning </b><b>the </b>smile <b>as </b>best as I could <b>despite </b>the <b>nerves </b>coiling in my <b>stomach</b>.


    “I’d like you to <b>help </b>me <b>out </b>with something <b>today</b>. Something important.”


    His eyes flickered to <b>Julian</b><b>, </b>who stood silently beside me.


    Recognition shed <b>in </b>Dr. James’s <b>expression</b>.


    <b>“</b>Ah, you’re <b>the </b><b>young </b><b>man </b>who came to her <b>rescue </b><b>that </b>evening<b>,</b>” Dr. James said<b>, </b><b>giving </b>Julian a small nod <b>of </b>approval.


    Julian responded with a faint, respectful smile, barely nodding his head.


    <b>11:35 </b><b>AM </b>


    “Alright then, follow me to my <b>office</b><b>,</b><b>” </b>Dr. James added, leading the <b>way </b>down the corridor


    As <b>we </b>entered his office<b>, </b><b>he </b>hung his <b>coat </b>on the <b>rack </b>and <b>gestured </b>for us to take <b>a </b>seat.


    He lowered himself into the chair behind his <b>desk</b>, still watching us with mild curiosity.


    <b>“</b>I’m guessing <b>you’re </b>here to check up on the baby?” he asked, his voice light and


    <b>expectant</b>.


    I shook my head, feeling Julian shift uneasily beside me.


    <b>“</b>Oh, no. Actually… we’re here for something <b>else</b><b>,</b><b>” </b><b>I </b>began, forcing myself to stayposed.


    “You <b>see</b><b>, </b><b>a </b>few minutes ago I just found out that… well, he might be my biological brother.


    We’re here to <b>take </b>a <b>DNA </b><b>test </b>to confirm if it’s true<b>.</b><b>” </b>


    For a moment, Dr. James simply stared at me, processing the information.


    Then he leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows raised in shock.


    “That’s<b>… </b><b>a </b>lot <b>to </b>take in,” he said slowly, his voice tinged with surprise.


    And <b>here </b>I was thinking you two were in a romantic rtionship.”


    My cheeks flushed slightly at his assumption.


    Me? In a rtionship with Julian?


    Even before I knew about the possibility of us being siblings, I had never <b>seen </b>Julian in that way.


    There was a bond between us, <b>yes </b>but it wasn’t romantic.


    –


    It <b>was </b>something deeper<b>, </b>something stronger.


    A bond that, now that I thought about it, made so much more sense <b>if </b><b>we </b>truly were family.


    “<b>I </b><b>get </b>that a lot,” I muttered awkwardly, waving it off.


    Dr. James chuckled lightly and stood up, shaking his head <b>as </b><b>if </b>he couldn’t <b>believe </b>the situation.


    “<b>Anyways</b>,” he said, regaining his professional demeanor, <b>“</b>let’s <b>get </b>started.”


    Julian turned to me, giving me a reassuring nod <b>as </b>if to <b>say</b>, No matter what happens, I’m here<b>. </b>


    I swallowed hard and followed Dr. James through another door into a smaller, <b>sterile </b>testing room.


    The walls <b>were </b>white and <b>bare</b><b>, </b>and the only furniture <b>was </b><b>a </b>counter filled with <b>medical </b>supplies and two chairs.


    This <b>was </b>it.


    <b>Here</b>, <b>in </b>this room<b>, </b><b>my </b><b>questions </b>would finally be <b>answered</b>.


    <b>3/3 </b>
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