His Ex Wife is A Billionaire (Evadne and Thaddeus)

Chapter 808 Barry's funeral was a reverent affair, thanks to the combined efforts of the Abernathy and Ashbourne families.

As the day waned and the Fairhaven family dispersed, Jareth remained knelt in the chapel, his gaze fixed on his grandfather's portrait, unwilling to leave.

Evadne had gone hto be with Emeric, while Thaddeus stayed by Jareth's side until the end.

"Jareth, you're exhausted. It's tto head back and get srest," Thaddeus sighed, moving to help him up, but finding him as unyielding as iron.

"I can't rest yet. There's still Lily's affairs to look after," Jareth replied, his voice almost robotic.

The bone-deep weariness in his tone twisted Thaddeus' heart.

Lily.

That name, unspoken by them all these days, because they knew it was the gaping, bleeding wound in Jareth's heart that would never heal.

"I'll help you. Don't worry, I'm here for you," Thaddeus said, his voice gravelly with emotion.

Lily was gone, and no words of comfort seemed to hold any weight.

"I remember Lily once said she wanted a simple, peaceful life. Even for her own funeral, she wanted it plain and quiet, to slip away like a raindrop vanishing in a shower. Nothing could be more fitting," Jareth said, his breath hitching as a nascent smile shattered before it could fully form. "But with me, all the fighting, never a day of peace or comfort. Thad, I destroyed Lily's life, it was me. I'm responsible for her death. She has no kin left in this world. How can I possibly make amends, how can I ever repay her?" Thaddeus knelt beside him, his large hand patiently patting Jareth's back, "Jareth, don't do this to yourself. Lily wouldn't want to see you so broken. You need to stay strong, to protect the Fairhaven legacy, and Marilla. That way, her sacrifices won't be in vain." It was only as night fell that Thaddeus and Jareth finally left the chapel.

"Thad, cwithto Whispering Pines Manor," Jareth murmured in the dimly lit car, his face pale but his voice steady. "I want to sort through Lily's things. Afterward, I'm going to close up the manor for good." Thaddeus nodded in understanding. Whispering Pines Manor had been hto Jareth, Marilla, and Lily for a long time. It once radiated warmth, but now, it was a source of immense pain.

The ride was silent. Dean drove quietly, Thad with an impassive face sat in the back, and Jareth, only minutes after the car started, rested his head against the window and fell into a heavy sleep.

"Jareth, we're here." An hour later, Thaddeus woke him. Jareth rubbed his face, looking haggard as he stepped out of the car.

Both Thaddeus and Dean followed closely, concerned for his well-being.

"Mr. Thaddeus, Mr. Jareth is in bad shape. He looks like he's holding on, but he's running on empty," Dean whispered, his voice tinged with sorrow.

"I know." Thaddeus' heart ached, but he was at a loss on how best to share his friend's burden.

Jareth's trembling fingers entered the familiar code and pushed the door open.

As he stepped into the living room, his gaze swept across the room, everything as it had been, as if nothing had changed.

"Mr. Jareth, you're back." Suddenly, a gentle, respectful voice, ethereal and melodious, floated into his ears. Jareth's face brightened with a warm smile, reflexively responding, "I'm back." But the response he longed for would never come.

With a thud-Jareth could hold on no longer. His once proud stature crumbled, and he knelt, his body curling inward as if to retreat into a cocoon.

"Jareth!" "Mr. Jareth!" Thaddeus and Dean rushed to his side, but they heard the sound of tears hitting the floor.

"Jareth, let Dean andhandle this. Don't push yourself," Thaddeus said, wrapping an arm around his trembling friend, his own eyes reddening.

"It's okay. I'm okay." Jareth fiercely wiped away his tears and pushed himself up from the ground, step by step, he made his way upstairs.

Thaddeus watched his stubborn yet fragile figure, his heart so heavy he could barely breathe.

He remembered how, in their youth, whenever Jareth spoke of Lily, the brash young man would boast with a smile that she was his loyal sidekick.

In truth, Thaddeus knew.

Lily was not only Jareth's faithful lieutenant but also the family he cherished most, a bond deeper than blood.

They arrived at Lily's room, which was pristine and simple, with just a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk-too sparse to be recognized as a young woman's quarters.

Thaddeus and Dean had cto help, but they didn't dare touch anything, merely standing at the doorway, watching Jareth's fingers gently trace the tabletop, the uncreased bedspread, feeling Lily's presence still lingering. Jareth opened the wardrobe, looking at each of Lily's gowns, protected in garment bags, each as pristine as new.

His eyes shimmered with tears as memories flooded his mind.

"Back in the day, whenever I needed to attend business galas or negotiate deals that required a companion, it was always Lily by my side," Jareth said, pulling out a fiery red gown, smiling through his tears. "I om remember how beautiful she looked O in these dresses. Men would stare, makingso irrationally angry whenever I took her out.. Those emotions were not those of romantic ambiguity; they were the protective instincts of a big brother, the kind that soured my stomach when I pictured my little sister Lily being ogled by other men. It was a deep-seated discomfort, a sense of something precious being threatened. I'm such a mess," he muttered with a self-deprecating chuckle, "I don't deserve a wonderful sister like Lily." As a pang of heartache washed over Thaddeus, Dean, sitting beside him, had already cycled through silent tears more than once.

When Jareth was closing the wardrobe, his eyes caught a glimpse of a leather brown case resting beneath a row of hanging clothes. His curiosity piqued, he retrieved the box and placed it gently on the bedspread.

Opening it slowly, he discovered a journal resting peacefully within. It was Lily's diary, a pastel pink adbrhed a with a little white bunny clutching a carrot. On its edge was a plastic combination lock, the kind so flimsy a single whack could pop it open. Yet Jareth didn't resort to brute force. He pondered for a moment before, as if guided by smysterious impulse, he keyed in his own birthday.

With a soft click, the lock sprang open.

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