His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 193: Why Did You Hate Her That Much

Chapter 193- Why Did You Hate Her That Much?

LOGAN’S POV

How the hell am I standing here, looking at someone who looks exactly like me?

I’m not even exaggerating—same eyes, same nose, same damn face. It was like staring at a mirror.

"How am I looking at someone who looks exactly like me?" I asked slowly, my voice tight, trembling. "How am I looking at someone that could literally be my twin? You see her, you see me."

I looked directly at Lucian. "Now don’t you dare lie to me. Don’t give me some smartass answer. And if you answer me with another question, I swear to God—"

"Umm..." he stammered, looking away, scratching his head like his brain just left the room.

"Don’t you fucking stammer at me, Dad!" I snapped, stepping closer. "Because I know where you’re going with that stammering shit—and I’m not in the mood for it."

His eyes widened, caught. Guilty.

Before he could say anything else, Tyler stepped forward.

"I think I should excuse you guys," he said gently, raising both hands like he didn’t want to make things worse. "It’s clearly a family issue. And it would be disrespectful of me to stay here while you work through it."

His voice was calm, but his eyes kept bouncing between me and Lucian—nervous.

This wasn’t the first time he was saying this. He had said the same thing earlier, when me and Lucian got into that heated argument. Like he was trying to avoid trouble.

"Absolutely, yes," Lucian said quickly.

"Yes," Lily added, her voice soft and fake as hell, like she was trying to sound polite.

They spoke at the same time. Like they had been waiting for him to offer to leave.

Tyler nodded and took a step back, about to walk out when I grabbed his wrist tightly.

He froze and looked at me, eyes wide, silently asking me to let him go. I didn’t.

I held on even tighter.

Lucian and Lily turned toward me, confused, wondering why I wasn’t letting him leave.

I didn’t even blink.

"Whatever you have to say," I said coldly, "you’ll say it in his presence."

Lucian’s mouth opened, probably to protest, but I cut him off.

"He was here when it all started. He knows everything already. He stays."

I narrowed my eyes.

"And if you don’t want him to stay, then guess what? I’m leaving too."

Lucian stared at me for a few seconds, his jaw tightening.

Then finally, he gave in with a slow nod.

"Good," I said sharply, letting go of Tyler’s hand. "Now go ahead. Keep talking."

Lucian cleared his throat and rubbed his palms together like that would calm his nerves. It didn’t.

He finally spoke again.

"I never wanted to tell you that your mom was dead," he began.

I flinched at the word mom.

"But I didn’t have a choice," he continued. "I knew that if you found out she was alive, you’d ask about her. You’d always ask about her. You’d want to know where she was. Why she left. Why she never came back."

He sighed.

"So I thought... maybe if I told you she died... maybe then you’d stop asking. Maybe you’d forget about her. Maybe you’d finally move on."

I stood there. Frozen.

He actually said it. He actually said it.

I laughed. Cold and short.

"That was your brilliant plan?" I said, shaking my head. "To tell a kid that his mother died? Just so he wouldn’t ask questions?"

My fists clenched.

"You thought lying about her death would make me ’move on’? You thought that would help me grow up better?"

I stepped forward again. My voice dropped to something dark.

"Before we move forward," I said quietly, "don’t call her my mom."

Lucian stiffened.

"Do not ever call her my mom."

I looked at him dead in the eyes.

"I won’t repeat myself."

"Call her Lily," I said coldly, staring straight at Lucian. "Not mom. Don’t call her my mom."

I folded my arms, my heart pounding like crazy in my chest.

"That’s her name, right? Lily. That’s what you told me her name was. So say it. Say Lily."

He nodded slowly, but something about his face changed.

The way his eyes shifted... the way he didn’t meet my gaze... Something was off.

And in that moment, everything in my head started to connect like puzzle pieces that had been scattered for years.

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Wait... is her name really Lily?" I asked, slowly, carefully.

He froze.

And just like that, the air in the room changed again.

I remember all those nights I stayed up—digging through the internet, scrolling page after page, trying to find even a blurry photo of her. A name. A trace. Anything.

But there was nothing.

I couldn’t find a single photo. Not one article. Not even a clue.

I searched for ’Lily’ everywhere. I didn’t ask Lucian because, well, back then I still trusted him. I still believed him when he said she was dead. I believed him when he gave me that name.

But now? Now it was making too much sense.

There was no Lily.

There never was.

If she really was someone named Lily, I would’ve seen something. Even the tiniest thing. A birth record. A school record. A photo. Anything.

But I found nothing.

And the only explanation?

He gave me the wrong name. On purpose. Just like he lied about her being dead.

Because he was hiding her. Hiding everything.

I looked at him, locking my eyes on his, waiting for him to admit it.

He blinked. His throat moved as he swallowed hard.

Then finally, he opened his mouth.

"...No," he said softly. "Her name wasn’t Lily."

Boom.

Just like that, everything came crashing down.

"I knew it," I said, my voice rising as anger filled my chest like smoke. "I fucking knew it!"

I stepped back, my hands going to my head as I tried to breathe. My heart was racing.

"You told me her name was Lily. You told me she was dead. And all this time, none of it was true."

Lucian reached a hand toward me, but I backed away fast, disgusted.

"Logan, son... her name wasn’t Lily," he said again, this time a little firmer. "Her name was far from Lily. That was never her name."

"Then why?" I shouted, pointing a finger at him. "Why did you lie? Why did you lie about her name on top of everything else?!"

He looked away again. I could see the guilt in his eyes. He knew he was wrong. He knew it.

He swallowed again. "Because I knew that if I gave you her real name, you’d look for her."

"No shit," I snapped.

"And I knew you’d find something. Even if it was small. You would’ve seen her face. Or found someone who knew her. And then you’d want more."

He sighed deeply, like he was tired—but I didn’t care. I was tired too. Tired of being lied to.

"So I thought... if I gave you a fake name, and told you she was dead, then you’d never know the truth. You’d grow up without asking. Without thinking of her. And me... I wouldn’t think of her either."

I stared at him, my fists clenched so tight they hurt.

"You hated her," I said quietly. "Didn’t you?"

He flinched.

"You didn’t just cut her out of your life. You erased her completely. You buried her like she was some criminal. Like she was a mistake. You took her memory away from me too."

My voice cracked. I felt my throat closing.

"Why did you hate her that much, Dad?"

"Why did you hate her so much that you didn’t just leave her... you wiped her out?"

I took a shaky breath.

"You didn’t just keep her away. You killed her in our heads. You made sure she never existed."

I shook my head slowly.

"Why?"