Please Come Back, My Love Chapter 45

Elena: POV

I woke up the next morning with Julian's arm still wrapped around my waist, his breath warm against the back of my neck.

*"I can't be without you anymore."*

His words from last night echoed in my head. Not *I love you*. Not *I choose you*. Just... *I can't be without you.*

Like I was a habit he couldn't break. An addiction he couldn't quit. *He might be addicted to me, but probably just addicted to my body.* The thought tasted bitter in my mouth.

I stared at the pale morning light filtering through the curtains, feeling the weight of his arm across my stomach—protective and possessive all at once.

*Does love even matter that much?* Yes. Yes, it fucking did.

But I didn't move. Didn't pull away. Just lay there, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against my back, wondering how much longer I could keep doing this.

*Wondering how much longer until he realizes he doesn't actually need me at all.*

Something felt off. Julian's body was too still, too tense. Like he'd been awake for a while.

I shifted slightly, and his arm tightened around me.

"You're awake," I said quietly.

A pause. Then: "Yeah."

His voice was rough, but not with sleep. With something else. Stress, maybe. Or guilt.

I turned in his arms to face him, and that's when I saw his phone on the nightstand, screen still glowing. His jaw was tight, his gray eyes shadowed.

"How long have you been up?"

"A while." He ran a hand through his hair, not quite meeting my eyes. "I got some messages early this morning. From Mother."

My stomach dropped. "What kind of messages?"

He reached for his phone, scrolling through what looked like a long thread of texts. "She wants to take you shopping. For Grandfather's birthday party next week." He paused, his jaw tightening. "She says she wants to apologize. That she overreacted at the restaurant."

*Bullshit. Complete bullshit.*

"Julian, after what she said last night—"

"I know she was harsh." He cut me off, his voice taking on that defensive edge I knew too well. "I called her as soon as I got her texts. Told her she crossed a line. That she needed to apologize properly."

*So that's why he's been awake. He's been dealing with this for hours.*

"And what did she say?"

"She agreed." His hand cupped my face, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. "She wants to make things right, Elena. She's my mother—she just wants what's best for me. Maybe she went about it the wrong way, but her intentions weren't malicious."

I stared at him. "What's best for you? Julian, she tried to pay me off—"

"She was protecting me." His forehead pressed against mine. "You have to understand the pressure she's under. The family reputation, my career—it all weighs on her. She doesn't know you yet. That's why this is important. If you could just... try to get along with her. Give her a chance to see who you really are."

*Give HER a chance? What about me?*

"Julian—"

"Please." His eyes searched mine, and I saw that desperate hope again. "I know yesterday was rough. But she's reaching out now. She's trying. Doesn't that count for something?"

*No. It doesn't. Because I know exactly what this is.*

But looking at his face—seeing how badly he wanted this to work, how much he needed me to make peace with his mother—I felt my resistance crumbling.

He was asking me to be the bigger person. To overlook the humiliation, the insults, the fucking check his mother had slid across the table like I was some kind of prostitute.

All because he couldn't stand the idea of being caught between his mother and his... what? His wife? His obligation?

*His possession.*

"She's my mother," Julian said again, softer this time. "And you're my wife. I need you two to at least try to get along. For me. For our family."

*Our family.*

The words should have warmed me. Instead, they just made the dread in my stomach heavier.

Because he wasn't asking me to do this for us. He was asking me to do this for him. To make his life easier. To smooth over the mess so he didn't have to choose.

But I heard myself saying, "Okay."

Relief flooded his features. "Thank you." He kissed me—soft and grateful—and I felt like the world's biggest idiot.

"But Julian," I pulled back slightly, meeting his eyes. "If she does anything—if she says anything like what she said last night—"

"She won't." His voice was firm, certain. "I made it clear to her this morning. She knows she crossed a line. She wants to make it right."

*Because you asked her to. Not because she actually wants to.*

But I didn't say that. Just nodded, feeling the trap closing around me with every word.

---

An hour later, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at my reflection. I'd chosen a cream cashmere sweater—loose enough to hide the barely-there bump—and dark jeans. Simple. Understated.

*Appropriate for the housekeeper's daughter trying to prove she belongs.*

Julian appeared behind me, already dressed in one of his perfectly tailored suits. His hands settled on my shoulders.

"You look beautiful," he said quietly.

*But not enough. Never enough.*

I didn't say that. Just leaned back against him, letting myself have this moment before I walked into whatever trap Evelyn and Victoria had planned.

His phone buzzed again. He glanced at it, then back at me.

"They're here. Waiting downstairs."

I nodded, grabbing my coat and bag.

We walked down the curved staircase together, Julian's hand at the small of my back. Through the tall windows, I could see a silver Mercedes parked in the circular driveway.

As we reached the bottom of the stairs, I could hear voices from the foyer—Evelyn's cultured tones mixing with Victoria's lighter laugh.

Julian's hand tightened slightly on my back.

"Thank you for doing this," he said quietly. "I know it's not easy. But it means a lot to me that you're willing to try."

*I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this for you. Because you asked. Because you always ask, and I always say yes.*

"If anything happens—if they say or do anything that makes you uncomfortable—you text me immediately. Understood?"

"Understood."

We stepped into the foyer.

And there they were, standing near the entrance like two perfectly dressed predators—Evelyn in a cream Chanel coat and pearls, Victoria in pale pink that made her look like an innocent princess.

Both of them smiled when they saw us.

Bright. Welcoming.

*Fake as fuck.*

Julian's hand moved from my back to lace with mine, squeezing once. Then he turned to his mother, his expression warming in a way it never quite did with me.

"Mother. Thank you for doing this."

Evelyn's smile softened as she looked at her son. "Of course, darling. I meant what I said—I want to make things right."

She turned that smile on me, and I felt my skin crawl.

"Elena and I are going to have a wonderful afternoon. Aren't we, dear?"

Julian looked at me expectantly, hope written all over his face.

*He really believes this. He really thinks his mother has changed overnight.*

"Yes," I heard myself say. "That sounds... nice."

Julian squeezed my hand one more time, then let go. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead—a gesture that felt more like a reward for good behavior than affection.

"I'll see you tonight. I have meetings all afternoon, but call me if you need anything."

Then he was walking away, heading toward his study, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor.

Victoria's smile sharpened the moment Julian disappeared around the corner.

---

"Elena!" Evelyn's voice remained warm, but now that Julian was gone, there was an edge underneath. Like sugar coating poison. "Shall we?"

She gestured toward the front door where I could see the Mercedes waiting, the driver already standing by the passenger door.

I followed, my hand instinctively moving to my stomach.

*Please let this not be a disaster. Please let me be wrong about them.*

But I already knew I wasn't.