After the Cold Marriage His Crazy Love (Iris and Julian) novel Chapter 5

Chapter 5 She Collapsed Into Him

The sun dipped low behind the hills, casting a copper glow across the front yard.
Iris sat stiffly on a folding chair beneath the porch awning, surrounded by Linda and a circle of middle-aged women from the neighborhood. They were organizing food trays and stacking disposable cups for the evening’s memorial service. The folding tables had been set up with framed photos, floral centerpieces, and bundles of paper programs for guests.
But in this part of the country, a few women gathered for “helping out” almost always meant “digging in.” It was never just about service—it was about gossip. Real gossip. From who was sleeping with whose husband to which high schooler got busted shoplifting last weekend, nothing slipped through their net.
“So why’s the funeral been pushed?” one woman asked Iris, not bothering to lower her voice.
Iris looked down and softly replied, “I’m not sure.”
Linda leaned toward her, dropping her tone just enough to sound conspiratorial. Her eyes darted around, scanning for eavesdroppers even though she clearly wanted to be overheard. “Caleb’s not back yet. Word is he’s been off climbing God-knows-where. Some mountain range without reception. People say he won’t be back for a few more days.”
“A few days?” The woman gave a sharp scoff. “What’s he think this is, a vacation? His grandfather’s in a d*mn casket. That body won’t wait forever.”
Caleb was Julian’s half brother—same father, different everything else. He was known for being untamed and detached, the type who treated rules like suggestions and responsibility like a joke.
“Wait a minute,” Linda muttered, straightening up. She squinted toward the long gravel driveway where a dark SUV had just come to a slow stop. “Who’s that?”
“Oh my God,” Linda gasped, slapping her thigh.
Everyone’s heads turned, eyes locking on the scene unfolding at the end of the driveway. Then, all of them turned to look at Iris.
Their gazes were loaded—with sympathy, meaning, and more than a little judgment.
Iris stared straight ahead. Her chest tightened, making it hard to breathe, and her fingers went numb as she sat there motionless.
Lily had just stepped out of the car. Without a word, she ran straight into Julian’s arms, wrapping both arms tightly around his waist, sobbing into his chest like she’d just lost the love of her life.
“Julian,” she wailed, “how could he be gone? It was so sudden… I cried the entire way here. He was always so healthy. Why did this have to happen? He was such a good man… he loved all of us so much…”
Iris looked away and lowered her head, continuing to arrange the sympathy materials in silence.
No one said anything, but the mood shifted. A few heads turned. Someone cleared their throat. It was the kind of moment people wouldn’t forget, and Iris knew it would get talked about later, whether she was around or not.
Linda bumped her knee lightly and leaned in. “You’re really okay with that?” she murmured. “Because I wouldn’t be.”
As she said it, Linda actually swiped the air twice as if delivering imaginary slaps. Of course Iris was angry. But she and Julian didn’t have that kind of relationship anymore.
She didn’t even have the right to be jealous, let alone fight for him.
“Wait—look, look,” one of the other women hissed, pointing again, eyes wide with anticipation.
Iris didn’t want to look. She was already barely holding it together.
“Oh, come on,” Linda exclaimed. “Did he really just carry her into the house?”
She stood up, muttering as she slapped her thigh again in frustration, leaving the cards in a messy pile on the table. “I’m going in to see what the hell’s going on.”
As Linda disappeared into the house, the remaining women quieted down, their eyes flicking back to Iris, trading silent glances full of meaning.
If she weren’t sitting there, they’d probably be deep into Act II of their fictional drama already.
A few minutes later, Linda came back, walking fast, a little too pleased with herself. She grabbed Iris’s hand.
“So apparently,” she said, voice low and eager, “the little drama queen’s been on some crash diet. Hasn’t eaten in days. Said she cried the whole ride over, then passed out from grief right into Julian’s arms.”
Another woman sneered. “Passed out, huh? Funny. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was the one married to him.”
“Too nice,” Linda muttered, patting Iris on the back of her hand. “You’re way too easygoing. You keep letting stuff like this slide, and that girl’s gonna walk off with your man like it’s nothing.”
Iris forced a soft smile. “Don’t overthink it. Julian and Lily just grew up together. They’re old friends, that’s all.”
She kept her voice steady, even as something sharp twisted in her chest. This was the first time she defended Julian. It would also be the last. But really—who would believe her?
Night settled in.
Caleb still hadn’t returned. The burial couldn’t move forward without him, so the funeral home held the body overnight.
That evening, Julian’s father and uncle stayed at the house, talking quietly with a few neighbors who had come by to pay their respects. Iris, heavy with fatigue, made her way to the bedroom she and Julian shared during every visit back home.
She closed the door gently behind her. Just then, Julian stepped out of the bathroom.
He wore nothing but a white towel slung low around his hips. His chest was broad and solid, his abs taut, each muscle well-defined and glistening slightly from the shower. His presence radiated heat and strength.
His damp hair clung slightly to his forehead, accentuating the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the deep-set intensity of his eyes. He looked wild. Untamed.
Their eyes met. He paused. So did she.
Iris’s heart jumped into her throat. She immediately looked away, her feet glued to the floor by the door. She couldn’t even remember how to breathe.
Every time they came back here, they had to share this room. And every time, it was the same—uncomfortable.
Julian’s voice was low, expression unreadable. “Where’s my stuff?”
Iris pointed. “Still in the black duffel in the closet. I didn’t get a chance to unpack.”
He walked over, opened the closet, and dragged the bag out. He dropped it onto the bench at the end of the bed and unzipped it.
He rummaged through for a minute, pulling out a hoodie and sweatpants. Then he paused.
His fingers had closed around something unexpected. Slowly, he pulled it out—a pale pink bra. His brows twitched ever so slightly, his eyes flickering in brief surprise.
Iris’s face lit up red like it had been slapped. She rushed forward in panic, grabbed the bra from his hand, and shoved it behind her back.
She was mortified. So close to him, all she could smell was the faint, clean scent of soap on his skin. Cool and crisp.
“I couldn’t find your other bag,” she stammered. “So I just packed everything into one.”
Julian looked down at her, his gaze lingering for half a second on the flush creeping up her neck.
Then he looked away, pulled out the rest of his clothes, and walked back into the bathroom without another word.
Iris stood there for a moment, still trying to calm her heartbeat. While he was gone, she used the time to unpack both of their clothes and put them away into the drawers.
Julian came out fully dressed. He didn’t speak. He didn’t glance at her.
He walked out of the room. And he didn’t return. Sometime after midnight, Iris woke up.
She sat in the dark for a moment, then slipped out of bed without turning on the light. She figured Julian had been out there long enough. Maybe he could use a break.
But the second she stepped into the hallway and caught a glimpse of the front room, she stopped cold.
Only two people were still there, sitting side by side on the couch: Julian and Lily. The others had long gone to bed.
The two of them sat close. Lily’s eyes were shut, her head gently leaning against Julian’s shoulder. She looked peaceful and comfortable.
Julian didn’t move. He didn’t shrug her off. Didn’t shift away.
He just sat there, his gaze locked on the casket.
Iris stood there, unmoving. Something inside her just… stopped. Like a switch flipped, and whatever hope she had left sank out of reach.
Her arms felt cold. Her legs, heavy. She couldn’t cry anymore, even if she wanted to.
Some part of her still loved him. But even love has its limits. Her eyes burned. She turned and walked back to the room.