Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 117

Chapter 117

Julian: POV

I drove home in silence.

The city lights blurred past. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles went white.

Catherine’s face kept flashing in my mind. Her screams. Her desperation

Good.

Let her rot in there.

She deserved worse. So much fucking worse.

But anger wasn’t the only thing churning in my gut.

Guilt

It sat there like a stone. Heavy. Cold.

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I drove Elena away. I made her feel so unsafe in her own home that she tried to leave in the middle of the night.

And because of that-

Because of me-

Our baby was dead.

The mansion was dark when I walked in.

Too dark.

Too quiet.

“Elena?”

No answer.

I flicked on the lights. The living room was empty. Kitchen-empty. I headed down the hall toward the bedroom.

“Elena, I’m home.”

Still nothing.

The bedroom door was slightly open. I pushed it wider.

3:02 pm

Chapter 117

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The bel was unmade. Empty:

My chest tightened.

“Elena?”

I checked the closet. The bathroom attached to the bedroom. Nothing.

Where the hell was she?

I walked faster now. Down the hall. Past the guest rooms.

And then I saw it.

The door to the nursery was open.

I stopped.

My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Please don’t be in there. Please don’t-

I stepped inside.

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The room was dark. The crib sat in the corner-the one we’d picked out together at that boutique in SoHo three weeks ago.

Elena had spent an hour choosing between white and natural wood, finally settling on the soft cream color because she said it felt warmer.

I’d watched her run her hand along the railing, smiling for the first time since the attack, talking about what color we’d paint the walls.

The rocking chair by the window was still-the antique one from my grandmother’s estate that I’d had restored.

Elena had loved it immediately, said she could picture herself there at midnight, feeding our baby while watching the stars.

All of it sat there now. Untouched. Empty.

A monument to everything we’d lost.

She wasn’t here.

Then I heard it. Water. Running from the bathroom attached to our room.

I turned and walked back. Slower this time. My pulse was hammering.

She’s just taking a bath. That’s all. She’s-

But something felt wrong.

The silence. The darkness. The way the house felt too still.

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3:02 pm

Chapter 117

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I pushed open the bathroom door.

And my whole world stopped.

She was in the bathtub.

Slumped against the porcelain. Her head tilted back. Eyes half-closed

And the water-

Jesus Christ.

The water was red.

Not pink. Not diluted.

Red.

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“Elena!”

I didn’t think. I just moved.

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I crossed the room in two strides and dropped to my knees beside the tub. My hands were shaking

“Elena-Elena, look at me-

Her eyes fluttered. Barely open. Barely there.

And then I saw her wrists.

Both of them.

Deep, vertical cuts. Blood still seeping out. Mixing with the bathwater.

“No. No no no no-

So

badly I could barely grab her.

I yanked her out of the tub. Water and blood sloshed everywhere. She was limp-so fucking limp-and cold. Her skin was like ice.

“Elena, stay with me-stay with me, baby, please-”

I laid her on the floor. Grabbed towels. Pressed them hard against her wrists.

So much blood.

Too much blood.

This is my fault. This is all my fault.

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3:02 pm

Chapter 117

I did this to her

I locked her in this house. I made her feel like a prisoner. I took away her freedom, her choices, her life-

And now shed rather die than stay with me.

My phone. I needed my phone.

But I couldn’t let go of her wrists. If I let go-

Fuck.

“Elena.” My voice was shaking. “Elena, can you hear me?”

Her eyes opened. Just barely,

Empty. So fucking empty.

‘Let me go,” she whispered.

“No.”

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“Please…” Tears slid down her temples. “Please… just let me go…”

She doesn’t mean die. She means leave. Leave me. Leave this prison I’ve built around her.

And I can’t even give her that.

會

I grabbed my phone with one blood-soaked hand and dialed my friend’s number-Blake, who is a doctor.

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