Chapter 153 Unraveling
Elena's POV
Alexander's fingers closed around Julian's collar, yanking him forward. "When did I pull her from that river?" He let out a harsh laugh. "What were you doing then? Your actions pushed her to that bridge in the first place." His grip tightened. "You don't deserve to stand anywhere near her."
Julian's jaw clenched. Then his fist connected with Alexander's cheekbone with a sickening crack.
I gasped, pulling Lila closer as Alexander's head snapped to the side. He recovered quickly, his own fist driving into Julian's ribs. They grappled, stumbling into a display of stuffed animals that toppled around them.
"Stop it!" I shouted as security guards rushed toward us, forcing them apart.
"Gentlemen, we're going to have to ask you to leave," one guard said firmly, though his eyes darted between them uncertainly—these weren't ordinary shoppers.
Julian shrugged off the guard's hand. "You're my uncle," he said, wounded beneath the anger. "My grandfather's adopted son. How could you take my wife?"
"Adopted son?" Alexander's smile was dangerous. "Is that what you tell yourself? What Arthur told you?" He straightened his jacket. "We both know the truth, Julian. I'm Arthur's bastard, conceived during one of his 'business trips.' The adoption was just convenient fiction."
Julian's face went pale, then flushed. "That doesn't give you the right—"
"The right?" Alexander stepped forward. "You had every right to her for three years. And what did you do? Locked her in a contract marriage, kept her hidden, let Victoria torment her."
My breath caught. The lost child Alexander had mentioned before. I felt Lila grip my sleeve tighter.
Julian's face crumpled before hardening again. "I made mistakes. But I loved her. I love her. And you let me think she was dead. What gave you the right?"
"She was dying when I pulled her from that water," Alexander said, voice softening slightly. "Hypothermic, barely breathing, with a head injury that should have killed her. When she woke up, she didn't remember any of it. Not you, not the pain, not the loss. She was free."
"You had no right to make that choice for her."
"Didn't I? You drove her to that bridge, Julian. I gave her a chance to start over, to be happy."
"And being with you is supposed to be happiness?" Julian said flatly.
Around us, whispers from the gathered crowd, "That man is shameless. Drove his own woman away, and now he's begging for forgiveness?"
"Her own wife doesn't recognize him. Can you imagine?"
The words burrowed under my skin. I looked at Julian—really looked—taking in the desperation across his features, the way his hands clenched as if he wanted to reach for me but didn't dare. Something raw and broken in his eyes made my chest ache.
But there was also Alexander, steady and familiar, who'd been there when I woke up confused and afraid, who'd built a life for me when I had nothing.
Except "nothing" might have been a lie.
"I need to go," I said suddenly. Both men's heads snapped toward me. "I need to go home. I need to think."
I reached for Alexander's sleeve. He was familiar, safe, my anchor for four years. But as I tugged gently, I noticed Julian's expression crumple like I'd struck him.
"We're leaving," I told the security guards, then forced myself to meet Julian's eyes. "Mr. Sterling, I'm sure we knew each other before. But whatever happened between us wasn't good for either of us. If fate separated us, maybe that was for the best."
"Elena—" he started, reaching for me.
"I'm sorry," I said, meaning it. "But seeing you makes me feel uncomfortable. Unsettled. I need to focus on what I do remember, not what I've lost."
Alexander stepped closer, his hand cupping my face with gentleness that felt staged for Julian's benefit. "Let's go home, love."
I nodded, grateful for the excuse to turn away. But as Alexander guided me toward the exit, I heard Julian's voice, hoarse and desperate: "Elena, please. Just—please don't go."
I paused. Lila surprised me by tugging free and turning back toward Julian.
"Bye-bye, Mr. Sad Eyes," she said with peculiar childhood clarity. She waved solemnly. "You shouldn't be mean to my mommy like that. But I hope you feel better soon. Mummy says when people are very sad, they need to rest and eat soup and have someone read them stories."
Despite everything, I felt my lips twitch toward a smile. Julian's expression softened as he looked at her. "Thank you," he said quietly. "That's very good advice."
Lila nodded, satisfied, then returned to my side. "Can we go now, Mummy? I'm hungry."
"Yes, sweetheart. We can go now."
Alexander led us through the crowd, which parted reluctantly, phones still raised. I kept my eyes forward, refusing to look back even though I could feel Julian's gaze like a physical weight.
We reached Alexander's black Mercedes. He opened the back door, and I slid in gratefully, pulling Lila onto my lap. She settled against me with a sigh.
Alexander climbed into the driver's seat, catching my gaze in the rearview mirror. "Are you all right?"
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Was I all right? I'd just learned that my life might be founded on lies. That the man I'd trusted had kept fundamental truths from me. That somewhere was a past I couldn't remember, full of pain and a husband who looked at me like I was his entire world.
"I don't know," I said honestly. "I don't know what I am."