Please Come Back, My Love Chapter 55

Elena: POV

I stared at Ethan's phone, at the images of **Rossi Atelier** glowing on the screen—elegant gowns, impeccable tailoring, a whole world waiting across the ocean.

Milan. A fresh start. A way out.

My throat tightened with something that felt dangerously close to hope.

"Ethan..." I looked up at him, at his earnest expression, at the genuine kindness in his eyes. "I don't know how to thank you. This is—this is more than I could have asked for."

He smiled, setting his phone down on the small table between us. Milo stirred in my lap, stretching his front paws and yawning widely.

"You don't have to thank me," Ethan said. "I'm just connecting two talented people. Isabella would be lucky to have you."

"Still." I kept my hands on Milo, focusing on the cat's soft fur. "This means everything. You have no idea how much."

His hand moved toward mine, reaching across the small table.

I pulled back instinctively, my hands tightening on Milo.

Ethan's hand froze mid-air, then slowly withdrew.

A flicker of hurt crossed his face before he masked it with understanding.

"Elena." His voice dropped lower, and when I met his eyes, I saw something shift in his expression. Something vulnerable. "If there's any way I can help you—with the move, with your portfolio, with anything—you just have to ask."

"I will." I kept my focus on Milo, unable to meet Ethan's gaze directly. "I really appreciate everything you're doing."

"I know the timing is terrible," Ethan continued, and I could hear him choosing his words carefully now. "But I have to at least try. Elena, would you give me a chance? Not now, I know you need space. But after everything settles. After you're free. Could you consider... us?"

My chest tightened.

"Ethan—"

"I'm not asking you to jump from one relationship into another," he said quickly, misreading my hesitation. "I'm just asking you to think about it. When you're ready. Whenever that might be."

I looked up at him then—at this kind, patient man who deserved so much better than what I could offer.

"I can't," I said quietly but firmly. "Not now. Not after. I just... I can't, Ethan."

His expression fell. "Because you're still married?"

"Because I need to be alone." The words came out more forcefully than I intended. "Even after the divorce, I don't think I'll be ready for anything like that. I need to focus on myself."

*On raising this baby alone. On healing from three years of being treated like nothing.*

Ethan was quiet for a long moment, his dark eyes searching my face.

"I understand," he said finally, though his voice carried disappointment. "And I respect that. But Elena..." He paused. "I can wait. However long you need—"

"Don't." I cut him off, my voice gentle but firm. "Please don't wait for me, Ethan. You deserve someone who's ready. Someone who can give you what you deserve. And that's not me."

"Elena—"

"I mean it." I scratched behind Milo's ears, needing something to do with my hands. "You've been nothing but kind to me. You've helped me when no one else would. And I'm grateful—I really am. But that's all this can be. Gratitude. Not... anything else."

The rejection hung between us, heavy and final.

Ethan leaned back, creating more distance, his jaw tightening. "Is it him? Are you still in love with Julian?"

The question hit harder than I expected.

*Am I?*

"It doesn't matter what I feel for him," I said quietly. "What matters is that I can't be what you need me to be. Not now. Maybe not ever."

Milo shifted in my lap, pressing his head against my palm as if offering comfort.

"I'm sorry," I added, meeting Ethan's eyes.

Ethan nodded slowly, his expression unreadable now. "I get it. I do." He stood, brushing cat hair off his jeans. "But the offer still stands—about Isabella and Milan. That's not contingent on... anything else. Just professional. Okay?"

"Thank you." My voice was barely above a whisper.

"And Elena?" He paused at the edge of the table. "Promise me something."

"What?"

"Stay away from Julian." His voice turned harder, protective. "After the divorce. After you leave. Don't let him pull you back in. Guys like him—they don't change. They just get better at making you think they have."

The warning hit home. Because wasn't that exactly what had been happening? Julian's recent tenderness, his refusal to let me go—wasn't that just another form of control?

"I see," I said quietly.

Ethan studied my face for a moment longer, clearly wanting to say more. But he just nodded and walked away, leaving me alone with Milo and my spiraling thoughts.

---

I left the café twenty minutes later, Ethan's words still echoing in my head. The October air bit at my face as I walked back toward Sophia's place, my mind spinning.

Milan. A job opportunity. A real chance at starting over.

*Could I really do it? Could I just pack up and leave everything behind?*

My hand moved to my stomach, pressing gently against the slight curve that was just starting to show through my hoodie.

*Yes. For this baby, I could do anything.*

---

The next morning came too fast.

I woke to pale sunlight streaming through Sophia's guest room windows, my body heavy with exhaustion despite a full night's sleep. The burgundy vest lay on the chair across the room, wrapped in cream-colored tissue paper, ready for tonight.

*Grandfather's birthday party. The last Sterling family event I'll ever attend.*

My phone sat on the nightstand, silent and accusatory. No messages. No missed calls.

Julian hadn't reached out once since I'd left the hospital in the week since I'd left the hospital.

I picked it up anyway, my fingers hovering over his name in my contacts. Part of me wanted to text him—to ask if he'd be picking me up, if we were still going together, if he even remembered I existed.

Instead, I typed: **【I'll get to the estate on my own. See you tonight.】**

I stared at the message for a long moment before hitting send.

His response came within seconds: **【Ok.】**

That's it. Just "Ok." Not "Are you sure?" or "Let me pick you up anyway" or even "We should talk."

Just... nothing.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. *So that's how it is.*

He was done with me. Finally, completely done. And why wouldn't he be? His mother was recovering, Victoria was back, and I was just the mistake he couldn't wait to correct.

I set the phone down carefully, my chest tight.

*Good. This makes it easier.*