Please Come Back, My Love Chapter 18

Elena: POV

"I'm sorry."

Julian's voice cut through the silence, rough and desperate. His hands were white-knuckled on the bed rail, like he was holding on for dear life.

I kept my eyes closed, my face turned toward the wall. I couldn't look at him. If I looked at him, I might break.

"I'm going to destroy Richard Morrison," he continued, his voice low and intense. "I'll make sure he never works in this city again. He'll be blacklisted from every company, every deal. I'll—"

"It's not just about Morrison." My voice came out flat, emotionless. Because I'd run out of emotions. I'd used them all up.

"What?"

"The problem between us isn't just Morrison." My hand moved unconsciously to my stomach—to the secret growing there that he could never know about. "It's everything. It's you not trusting me. It's you choosing Victoria over me. It's you hanging up when I needed you most."

I heard him inhale sharply. "Elena, I fucked up. I know that. But I can make this right—"

"Can you?" I finally turned to face him, and I saw him flinch at whatever he saw in my eyes. "Because from where I'm lying, Julian, you've made your choice. You've been making it for three years."

He moved closer, reaching for my hand. I tried to pull away, but he was faster.

His fingers wrapped around my wrist—gentle, but firm.

"Don't," I whispered. "Don't do this."

"Elena—"

I turned my head away.

But he was already leaning in, his hand cupping my face, turning me back toward him. His mouth captured mine, swallowing my protest.

I was angry. But my treacherous body responded anyway. Just for a heartbeat, my lips softened.

Then reality crashed back in, and I bit down on his lip. Hard.

He jerked back, tasting blood. Good.

"Get away from me," I said, my voice shaking with rage.

But he didn't move. His eyes were dark, intense, fixed on mine with an expression I'd never seen before. Almost like... panic.

"We still have two years on our contract," he said, his hand sliding down to my hip. "You can't just walk away, Elena. You signed an agreement."

The words hit me like a slap. "Fuck the agreement." My voice rose. "I'm done being your convenient wife while you save all your love for someone else."

His hand tightened on my hip, possessive. "So what? You want to run to someone else? Your old professor? My uncle?"

"You bastard—"

"You think you can just marry me when you want and divorce me when you don't?" His voice dropped lower, dangerous. "You worked so hard to trap me into this marriage, Elena. You drugged me. You manipulated my grandfather. And now you want out because things aren't going your way?"

The accusation made my blood run cold. "I didn't drug you—"

"All the suffering you've endured in this marriage?" he continued. "You deserve every bit of it."

I flinched like he'd struck me. Each word was a knife, cutting deeper than any physical wound.

"Be good," he murmured, his hand sliding up my thigh. "Be obedient. And maybe I'll let you stay as my wife permanently."

A bitter laugh tore from my throat. "Your wife? Victoria's back now, Julian. You can make her your wife. Isn't that what you've wanted all along?"

His jaw clenched, but he didn't deny it. Of course he didn't.

"You love me, don't you?" he said, his thumb stroking circles on my inner thigh. "So how could you stand to see another woman as my wife?"

The cruelty of it—the way he was using my feelings against me—made tears stream down my face. "You're such a fucking asshole."

"Maybe." His hand moved higher, and I hated myself for the way my body responded. "But you're still mine."

His fingers found the edge of my hospital gown, pushing it up.

"Julian—" My protest came out as a moan as his fingers found my clit through my underwear.

"That's right," he murmured. "Say my name."

"We can't—not here—" But my hips were already rocking against his hand.

"Why not?" His other hand moved to my breast. "You're my wife. I can touch you whenever I want."

He pushed my underwear aside, his fingers sliding through my wetness. "Fuck, Elena. You're soaking wet."

I bit my lip, trying to stay quiet, but a whimper escaped as he pushed two fingers inside me.

"That's it," he growled, his thumb pressing against my clit while his fingers curled inside me. "Let me hear you."

"Someone could come in—" I gasped.

"Then you'd better keep it down." His fingers thrust faster, striking that sensitive place deep inside me that sent sparks exploding across my vision.

His words, his touch—it was too much. I came apart with a strangled cry, my walls clenching around his fingers as pleasure crashed through me in waves.

"Good girl," he murmured, working me through it.

When I finally came back to myself, he was pulling his hand away, bringing his fingers to his mouth. He sucked them clean, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Besides," he said, his voice returning to something almost normal. "It's almost Grandfather's birthday at the end of next month. His health isn't good. Can we at least wait until after that to talk about divorce?"

The emotional whiplash was dizzying.

"Julian—"

"Please." The word sounded foreign coming from his mouth. "Just... let's get through his birthday. Then we can talk about everything."

I couldn't answer. Just turned my face away again.

He stood up, and the sharp scent of citrus filled the air.

"You should eat something," he said.

I opened my eyes to find him peeling an orange, his movements methodical. Like he hadn't just made me come with his fingers.

He separated a segment and held it out. "Open."

I stared at the orange slice. At this man who could be so tender one moment and so cruel the next.

Slowly, I opened my mouth.

He placed the segment on my tongue, his fingers lingering at my lips. "Good."

I chewed mechanically, tasting nothing.

He was reaching for another piece when his phone buzzed.

I saw the name flash across the screen. Victoria.

Something inside me died a little more.

"You should answer it," I said quietly. "She needs you."

"Elena—"

"Answer the phone, Julian."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he stood and walked toward the door. "I'll be right back."

The door closed behind him.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my body still humming from his touch. Hating myself for responding. Hating him for making me respond.

I could hear his voice through the door. Muffled, but I caught fragments.

"I can't right now... Something came up..."

Victoria's voice rose, high and panicked, even through the door.

Then silence.

When he walked back in, I hadn't moved.

"I need to leave," he said.

"Of course you do," I said flatly.

"Elena—"

"Just go, Julian." My voice was so tired. "I'm used to it by now."

"Be reasonable—"

"Reasonable?" I let out a hollow laugh. "I'm lying in a hospital bed after being drugged and assaulted, and you're leaving to go to her. But sure. I'm the one being unreasonable."

I saw guilt flicker across his face. But not enough to make him stay.

"I'll be back later," he said.

"No, you won't."

"Elena—"

"Just go." I turned my face to the wall. "Please. Just... go."

I heard him hesitate.

Then his footsteps moved toward the door.

The door opened. Closed. And he was gone.

---

I lay there in the silence, one hand pressed over my stomach where his child was growing. A child he would never want. A child I could never tell him about.

*"You're not worthy of carrying my child."*

His words from weeks ago echoed in my head, sharp as broken glass.

A sob built in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I wouldn't cry anymore. Wouldn't waste any more tears on a man who would always choose someone else.

The door opened again.

"He's gone," the nurse said, her voice kind but matter-of-fact.

I nodded.

She moved to check my IV. "That man who just left—he's your husband, right?"

"Yes."

"He's handsome," she said. "I'll give him that." She paused, meeting my eyes. "But honey? A man who leaves his wife alone in a hospital after what you went through? That's not a man worth keeping."