Please Come Back, My Love Chapter 60

Julian: POV

Josephine's expression softened slightly. "But all those times you pushed her away—did you ever stop to think she was your wife? If you really wanted to make things right, you needed to sit down and actually talk to her. No more hurting her." 

She stood slowly. "I'm going to step outside and call Arthur. He needs to know what's happened."

The door closed behind her.

I turned back to Elena. She still hadn't moved, but her eyelids were twitching. The doctor said she might wake up soon.

*What the hell was I supposed to say to her?*

I sank into the chair beside the bed, my head in my hands.

I didn't love her. I couldn't. Love was messy, uncontrollable, terrifying.

*And I didn't do that.*

I controlled things. I planned. I strategized. I didn't let emotions dictate my decisions.

But right then, sitting there in that sterile hospital room, watching Elena breathe—

*I wasn't in control of anything.*

A soft sound made me look up.

Elena's hand moved, sliding across the blanket to rest on her stomach.

**"No..."** The word was barely a whisper. **"Please... the baby..."**

I was on my feet instantly, leaning over her. "Elena. Elena, I'm here."

Her eyes fluttered open—amber and glazed with fear.

The first thing she did was press both hands to her stomach.

"The baby," she gasped. "Is it—"

"The baby's fine." I reached for her, but she flinched away. "Elena, listen to me. The doctor said everything's okay. Twelve weeks, strong heartbeat, perfectly healthy—"

She wasn't listening. Her hands moved frantically over her stomach, tears streaming down her face.

"My baby," she whispered. "My baby..."

Then her eyes focused on me.

And the fear that crossed her face was like a physical blow.

She scrambled back against the pillows, one hand still protective over her stomach, the other held out as if to ward me off.

**"No."** Her voice cracked. **"This is my child. You can't—you can't make me—"**

"Elena—"

**"You said I wasn't worthy!"** She was sobbing now, curling in on herself. **"You said I wasn't worthy of carrying your child, but this baby is mine too. Mine. And I won't—I won't let you—"**

The panic in her eyes—the absolute terror—hit me like a sledgehammer.

*She thought I was going to force her to get rid of it.*

"Elena, no." I moved closer, slowly, hands raised. "I'm not going to hurt the baby. I would never—"

**"You said!"** She was shaking, eyes wide and wild. **"You said terrible things. You said—"**

"I know what I said." My voice broke. "I know, and I was wrong. I was cruel and stupid and wrong."

She stared at me, breathing hard, still pressed against the wall like she thought I might lunge for her.

*She was afraid of me.*

*My wife was afraid of me.*

The realization was like ice water in my veins.

"Elena." I kept my voice soft, steady. "I'm not going to make you do anything. The baby is safe. You're safe. I promise."

"Your promises don't mean anything." Her voice was small, broken. "You promised to take care of me. You promised—"

"I know." I sank to my knees beside the bed, making myself smaller, less threatening. "I know I've broken every promise I ever made to you. But this one—Elena, I swear—I'm not going to hurt our baby."

**"Our baby?"** She laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. "Since when is it 'our' baby? You made it very clear how you felt about me having your child."

"I was wrong." The words tasted like ash. "About everything. I was... I was cruel. And I'm sorry."

She was still watching me warily, her body tense, ready to bolt.

I moved slowly onto the bed, careful not to crowd her. She flinched but didn't pull away.

"Twelve weeks," I said quietly. "You've been carrying our child for twelve weeks, and you didn't tell me. God, Elena... you were afraid of me, weren't you?"

"Of course I was afraid." Tears streaked down her face. "You would have made me—"

"I wouldn't have." *I didn't know if that was true. I didn't know what I would have done.* "Elena, I... I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I said those things. But I meant what I told you in the ambulance. I'm not letting you go."

"I don't want you to keep me out of obligation." Her voice was steady despite the tears. "I don't want to be your responsibility or your duty or your—"

"That's not what this is."

"Then what is it?" She looked at me, and there was something desperate in her eyes. "What am I to you, Julian?"

She stopped abruptly, eyes widening.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what she wanted to hear.

All I knew was that the thought of her leaving—of waking up and finding her gone—made me feel like I was drowning.

"You're my wife," I said finally. It was inadequate. I knew it was inadequate. But it was all I had. "You're carrying my child. And I'm not letting you walk away."

I reached out, hesitant, and cupped her face.

She trembled but didn't move away. "I'm begging you—don't give up on us yet."

There is no 'us,' Julian." Her voice broke. "There's never been an 'us.' Just your need to possess something."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it?"

I stared at her, this woman I'd married three years ago, this woman who'd been by my side through everything, and I realized...

*I didn't know.*

I didn't know what I felt. I didn't know if it was love or possession or some fucked-up combination of both.

All I knew was that I couldn't let her go.

"Please," I whispered, pulling her into my arms despite her weak struggles. "Please don't leave. Not now. Not when I'm finally starting to understand—"

"Understand what?"

*That I need you. That the thought of losing you makes me want to burn the world down. That maybe—maybe—this isn't just about the baby or the marriage or the contract.*

But I couldn't say that. Not when I didn't fully understand it myself.

So instead, I just held her tighter.

"I need time," I said against her hair. "To figure this out. To be better. To—"

"I'm tired of waiting for you to figure things out." She was crying now, her hands fisted in my shirt. "I'm tired of hoping you'll wake up one day and see me. Really see me."

"I see you." *Did I?* "Elena, I—"

"You see what you want to see." She pulled back, and the look in her eyes gutted me. "You see a convenient wife. A warm body. Someone who won't leave no matter how badly you treat her."

*Was that what she was to me?*

*No.*

*Yes.*

*I didn't know.*

"Can we try?" The words came out desperate. "Please. Let me take care of you. Both of you. Give me a chance to do this right."