Chapter 249:

Robert’s POV

I saw the signs of confusion clearly on Julie’s face; her eyes widened and narrowed restlessly as if she were trying to read my thoughts. "What do people do in a cemetery?" I asked coldly, watching the tension in her body.

She swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "They visit the dead."

"Exactly. So why do you ask?"

She rubbed her hands together, trying to justify her agitation. "I was just surprised. You said you were going out for a while; I didn’t know you wanted to come to the cemetery."

I fixed my gaze on her. "Would you have changed your mind if you knew?"

She looked directly into my eyes with sudden sincerity. "No... I want to be with you."

"Good," I replied shortly.

"Who died?" she asked, lowering her gaze toward Axel.

"You’ll know when we get there."

After a while, the car pulled up in front of the iron gates. I stepped out, feeling a sharp sting of pain in my side that made me grit my teeth. Damn it. This wound made me hate my weakness. I tried to keep my back straight as I walked beside her. We walked through the silent graves until we reached the one I sought.

Julie stopped, leaning slightly to read the name engraved on the cold marble. "Elizabeth Cross," she whispered.

"Yes," I said, my voice devoid of emotion despite the noise inside my heart. "This is my mother’s grave."

She turned to me, her features softened with sadness. "I’m sorry."

"Thank you," I replied stiffly.

She continued to study the headstone, looking at the dates. "She died a long time ago... you were so young then."

"Yes," I answered, my voice sounding as hollow as the grave we stood before. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

Julie tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with curiosity mixed with empathy. "Was she sick?"

I clenched my fist behind my back until my knuckles turned white, a bitterness spreading through my throat. She asks if she was sick? My mother was never sick; she simply chose death over pain and betrayal. She chose to leave when life became an unbearable burden.

Julie noticed my long silence and the hardening of my features. She rubbed her arms nervously. "I’m sorry for asking. I understand if you don’t want to answer."

I looked at the marble headstone, feeling the cold air brush my face before I spoke the truth that still burned my chest. "She committed suicide."

In that moment, shock registered clearly on her face. Her eyes widened, and her skin paled as if she had never expected that to be the cause. She took a small step back, her mouth opening to say something, but words failed her. "I... I don’t know what to say," she whispered in awe.

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Julie’s POV

I was completely stunned, my body frozen in place. I had no words; I never expected his mother to have committed suicide, or that Robert was forced to live with such a weight at such a young age. I wanted to say something anything but my tongue betrayed me.

"I was eight years old," Robert said, his frozen gaze fixed on the cold marble. "My mother had prepared dinner for us. As usual, my father wasn’t there. That day, she was smiling, which was unusual. When my father isn’t home, she’s usually upset."

My heart trembled as I listened. He was lost in the memory. "She served dinner to me and my older brother," he continued in a hollow voice. "When we finished, she told us to go to sleep. I wasn’t sleepy, so I just lay in bed until I heard the screaming."

My heart constricted, and a cold fear washed over me. He tightened his grip on his fist. "I got out of bed and went into the hall. My parents were fighting in the living room. I watched them... I heard her say: ’Are you cheating on me with that girl, Thomas?’"

My God! Did Thomas cheat on his wife? Robert continued, the veins in his neck bulging from suppressed rage. "My father replied: ’I love her... I love Violet.’"

My mother went silent and just looked at him.

My eyes widened in shock. Was that girl’s name Violet too? "In a single moment," he said in a dead tone, "she pulled out a gun, put it to her head, and pulled the trigger."

I let out a violent gasp, quickly covering my mouth as tears flooded my eyes. I couldn’t imagine the horror. She shot herself while he was watching? There were no words. I rushed toward him and hugged him with everything I had.

I wrapped my arms around his broad back, pressing my head against his chest. I cried bitterly, affected by the pain he had hidden for years. I felt his large hand rise slowly to rest on my back. "It’s okay, Julie... no need to cry,"

he said calmly, trying to reassure me.

I looked up at him through tearful eyes. "How did you endure all this?" I choked out. "How?"

"This is life, Julie," he answered, his voice heavy with bitterness. "It forces you to endure."

I saw the brokenness clearly in his eyes that old wound that never healed. "Your father... is that why you treat him so coldly?"

"My father died that day too, Julie," he replied flatly, staring at the horizon. "Even if he’s still alive now, he’s dead to me."

My God, he grew up without a mother or a father. He lost love just like I did, but in a much worse way. I felt an emotional surge I couldn’t restrain. "Robert... I love you," I said without thinking.

I knew I had sworn never to say it again, but it felt like the only word that could heal his wounds right now. He gave a faint smile. "You asked me yesterday if I loved you."

I looked at him, stunned. "I don’t know the answer," he continued, locking his eyes onto mine.

My chest tightened for a moment, but he went on. "But you’re the first person I’ve ever brought to this cemetery. And the first person I’ve ever told about my mother’s suicide."

Am I really the first? Did he choose me of all people to share this deeply private part of his life?

"I don’t know if I love you," he said in a deep voice that shook my soul, "but I know I’m ready to burn the world for you."

My eyes widened. Did he really just say that? "I’m ready to enter this grave if the price is for you to live," he added, gripping my hand tightly.

I couldn’t process it all. He didn’t say "I love you" explicitly, but he said something far more beautiful. I began to cry with overwhelming happiness.

He placed his massive hand on my cheek, wiping my tears with his thumb. "I won’t be able to say that word now because I’ve never said it before... do you understand, Julie?"

I nodded, feeling the warmth of his palm. "I understand."

He slowly pulled his hand away. "Come, let’s go now."

He turned to leave, but I stopped him. "Wait!"

He turned back, surprised. "What?"

I looked at him seriously. "I want to ask you for something."