Please Come Back, My Love Chapter 9

Elena：POV

Julian's hand stilled on his wine glass. "I'm aware of Elena's... qualities."

The pause before 'qualities' made my stomach clench. Like I was a piece of furniture he'd learned to appreciate.

Mom cleared her throat. "Julian, honey..." She paused, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. "You are taking good care of my daughter, aren't you? She works so hard. She deserves someone who sees that. Who appreciates her for who she is, not just... what she looks like."

Oh God. My cheeks burned.

"Mrs. Vance," Julian said carefully, "Elena is very important to me."

*Important.* Not loved. Not cherished. Important. Like a good investment.

Arthur wasn't letting up. "You know, in my day, a husband brought his wife flowers. Small gestures. Made her feel special." He leaned back, studying Julian. "Tell me, when's the last time you did something like that for Elena?"

The silence stretched. I could feel Julian's tension radiating off him in waves.

"I... provide for her," he said finally. "She wants for nothing."

"Except maybe affection," Arthur said mildly.

Mom set down her fork with a sharp clink. "Affection isn't optional in a marriage, Julian. It's the whole damn point."

I wanted to disappear. To sink through the floor and never resurface.

Because they were right. Three years of marriage, and Julian had never once given me flowers. Never taken me on a date. Never done any of the small, sweet things that normal husbands did.

I'd given him everything—handmade ties for his birthday, a vintage first edition of his favorite book, concert tickets to bands he liked. All carefully chosen, all from the heart.

He'd never used any of them.

I was an idiot for ever thinking he'd care.

Julian must have noticed my expression, because his hand found mine under the table. Squeezed gently. I wanted to pull away, but Grandpa Arthur was watching, so I let him hold it.

His thumb traced small circles on my palm. It should have been comforting.

It just made me feel more alone.

"Here." Julian's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "Let me get you some soup."

He reached for the tureen, ladling fish soup into my bowl. The smell hit me immediately—strong, briny, overwhelming.

My stomach lurched.

"Elena?" Arthur leaned forward, frowning. "Sweetheart, you've gone pale."

"I'm fine," I managed, my hand flying to my mouth. "Just—"

But the smell was everywhere, filling my nose, making my stomach twist violently. I could taste bile rising in my throat.

"Elena?" Julian's hand was on my shoulder now, his voice sharp with concern. "What's wrong?"

I couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. The nausea was a wave crashing over me, drowning everything else.

I shoved back from the table and ran.

The bathroom was mercifully close. I barely made it before I was retching into the toilet, my body heaving until there was nothing left but dry gasps and tears streaming down my face.

Fuck!

They were going to know. They were going to figure it out. Julian would realize what this meant, and then—

I couldn't let that happen. Couldn't let him know about the baby.

I washed my face with trembling hands, rinsed my mouth, tried to make myself presentable. In the mirror, I looked like hell—pale, shaky, my mascara slightly smudged.

But I could do this. I could lie. I'd been lying for three years about how much his rejection hurt. What was one more lie?

---

When I returned to the dining room, three pairs of worried eyes locked onto me immediately.

"Sorry," I said, forcing a smile. "My stomach's been bothering me lately. Must have eaten something off earlier."

Mom was on her feet in seconds. "Baby, why didn't you tell me? Do you need to see a doctor?"

"No, no. It's nothing serious. Just... my stomach's sensitive right now. Maybe I should stick to lighter foods for a bit." I slid back into my seat, carefully avoiding the soup bowl. "I'm fine, really."

Arthur frowned. "You've been working too hard. Julian, you need to make sure she's resting properly."

"I will, Grandfather." Julian's eyes were fixed on me, studying my face with an intensity that made my pulse spike. "Elena, we should stop by the hospital on the way home. Get you checked out."

"That's not necessary—"

"I'm not asking." His voice was firm but gentle. "Your health matters more than whatever deadline you're worried about."

*Since when?* I wanted to snap. But I just nodded, playing the obedient wife.

"Good," Arthur said firmly. "You take care of this girl, Julian. She's precious. Don't you forget that."

Mom reached across the table to squeeze my hand. "You call me if you need anything, sweetheart. Anything at all. I don't care what time it is."

The love in her eyes nearly broke me.

I was such a fucking coward.

---

The Bentley purred through the darkness, headlights cutting through the Connecticut countryside. Julian had been silent since we left the estate, his hands tight on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched.

I stared out the window, watching trees blur past, trying to calm my racing heart.

The road signs changed. Instead of heading back toward Manhattan, we were going toward New York-Presbyterian Hospital.

"Julian, I told you, I already saw a doctor." My voice came out sharper than I intended. "It's just a stomach bug. I got some medication. I'm fine."

"You're not fine." His voice was low, controlled. "You've been pale all week. You can barely keep food down. And now you're lying to me about seeing a doctor."

My heart stopped. "I'm not—"

"Don't." He cut me off, his eyes still on the road. "I've known you for sixteen years, Elena. I know when you're lying."

The car slowed. Pulled over onto the shoulder.

And then he turned to face me, his gray eyes boring into mine with an intensity that stole my breath.

Before I could react, his hand cupped my face, his thumb brushing my cheekbone. And then he leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine.

We were so close I could feel his breath on my lips, could see every fleck of silver in his eyes. His other hand found mine, threading our fingers together.

"Elena," he whispered, "are you keeping something from me?"