Chapter 389 Graveyard Vows

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    “Julius Whitethorn, what does that even mean?” Quinn demanded, her brows knitting into a single sharp line.

    “Exactly that,” Julius answered. “I don’t know how much longer my restraint willst if I keep forcing myself to stay away from you.”

    Night after night, hey awake, the darkness gnawing at his nerves until every hour felt like ss against skin. Reason told him to despise his father and choose the right path, yet he could no longer promise that reason would keep its grip forever.

    One day, he feared, the dam would break and he would be a madman every bit as obsessive and brutal as the man who sired him.

    “If that dayes, and I do something you despise, hit me with everything you have. Cripple me. Kill me if you must. I won’t me you.”

    “Julius Whitethorn!” Quinn cut him off, voice cracking. “What on earth is wrong with you? Did something happen?”

    “No. Nothing has happened at all,” he said, tone t.

    “Is it the insomnia talking? Are you spewing nonsense because you haven’t slept?”

    She had, in fact, noticed the bruised crescents beneath his eyes, darker than she remembered.

    Whatever rest he managedtely clearly offered no mercy, and his lips pressed together in a silence that confirmed it.

    “Have you been seeing a doctor regrly?” Quinn pressed.

    “I have,” he replied.

    “Which doctor? Give me the contact number.”

    “Why?” Julius lifted an eyebrow. “nning to take me to the doctor yourself?”

    “Yes. Exactly that,” she said, every syble iron–d.

    “I told you already. Once we walk out of this cemetery, you need to stay as far from me as possible. You-”

    “Quit stalling. Doctor’s contact, now.”

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    Chapter 389 Graveyard Vows

    Julius fell silent again, staring at her.

    :

    Quinn pulled out her phone without another word and tapped Fabian’s number.

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    As Julius‘ personal secretary, Fabian would certainly know how to reach the doctor who treated him.

    Fabian did not disappoint her. As soon as she asked, he answered with disarming candor. “Dr. Gavin Huxley. I’ll text you his number right away.”

    “All right,” Quinn said, ending the call. She turned back to Julius, her gaze steady yet gentle. “I’ll go with you and see Dr. Huxley in a little while.”

    “Why would you do that? We already broke up. You don’t owe me a thing,” Julius asked, confusion edging his voice.

    “Broken up or not, I can’t stand by and watch you lose your mind someday. Isn’t that reason enough?” Quinn’s response was soft but unwavering.

    His earlier words kept circling in her head, refusing to settle.

    It was as though he had been warning her that one day he truly might be the madman everyone whispered about.

    Quinn slid her phone into her pocket, faced the headstone, and bowed three times in silence. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Grafton. I didn’t know we’d be visiting today and brought no flowers. Next time I’lle prepared.”

    iNext /iitime/ii? /iJulius stole a nce at Quinn. iWill /iithere /iireally /iibe /iia /iinext /iitime/ii? /i

    “Let’s go,” Quinn said, straightening up.

    Seeing him still rooted to the spot, she stepped forward,ced her fingers through his, and nudged him toward the cemetery gate.

    His eyes fell to their joined hands, warmth blooming in his palm after an eternity of frost.

    What she did not understand was that the warmer it felt, the greedier a frozen heart could be.

    “My mother despised me,” Julius said abruptly. “She wished I had never existed.”

    Quinn stopped mid–step. “That’s not your fault. The me lies with your father. You and your mother were both innocent.”

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    :.

    Chapter 389 Graveyard Vows

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    “Quinn, I told you. If you can’t pity me all the way to the end, then put that pity away. Don’t hand it out so cheaply.”

    That pity only stirred the restlessness coiled inside him.

    Quinn fell quiet for a beat. “All right. I understand.”

    The moment the words left her, she released his hand.

    The warmth vanished. Julius‘ fingers twitched, aching to reim hers, yet in the end they curled back, empty.

    One after the other, they walked out of the cemetery.

    Inside the car, Quinn studied the text Fabian had sent, then instructed the driver to head to the listed hospital.

    The driver flicked a questioning nce at Julius through the rearview mirror.

    “Do as she says,” Julius murmured.

    Gavin Huxley blinked when Julius and Quinn stepped into his office, as though the scene had short–circuited his expectations.

    “You two got back together?” he asked.

    “No.” Julius‘ reply was t.

    “Dr. Huxley, I’m only apanying Mr. Whitethorn so he can receive proper treatment for his insomnia,” Quinn exined.

    “And in what capacity are you making that request, Ms. Bridger?” Gavin asked.

    “He once defended my parents‘ honor,” Quinn answered. “Naturally, I want him well.”

    “But what if his insomnia can be cured only by you, Ms. Bridger?” Gavin countered.