Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 23

Please Come Back, My Love

Chapter 23

Elena: POV

‘I’m sorry.”

Julian’s voice cut through the silence, rough and desperate. Nis hands were white knuckled on the bed rail, like he was holding on for dear life.

I kept my eyes closed, my face turned toward the wall. I couldn’t look at him. If I looked at him, I might break.

I’m going to destroy Richard Morrison,” he continued, his voice low and intense. “I’ll make sure he never works in this city again. He’ll be blacklisted from every company, every deal. I’ll-

“It’s not just about Morrison.” My voice came out flat, emotionless. Because I’d run out of emotions. I’d used them all up.

“What?”

The problem between us isn’t just Morrison.” My hand moved unconsciously to my stomach–to the secret growing there that he could never know about.

“It’s everything. It’s you not trusting me. It’s you choosing Victoria over me. It’s you hanging up when I needed you most.”

I heard him inhale sharply. “Elena, I fucked up. I know that. But I can make this right-”

“Can you?” I finally turned to face him, and I saw him flinch at whatever he saw in my eyes. “Because from where I’m lying, Julian, you’ve made your choice.

You’ve been making it for three years.”

He moved closer, reaching for my hand. I tried to pull away, but he was faster.

His fingers wrapped around my wrist–gentle, but firm.

“Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t do this.”

“Elena-

I turned my head away.

But he was already leaning in, his hand cupping my face, turning me back toward him. His mouth captured mine, swallowing my protest.

I was angry. But my treacherous body responded anyway. Just for a heartbeat, my lips softened.

Then reality crashed back in, and I bit down on his lip. Hard.

A bitter laugh tore from my throat. “Your wife? Victoria’s back now, Julian. You can make her your wife. Isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along?”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t deny it. Of course he didn’t.

“You love me, don’t you?” he said, his thumb stroking circles on my inner thigh. “So how could you stand to see another woman as my wife?”

The cruelty of it–the way he was using my feelings against me–made tears stream down my face. “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

“Maybe.” His hand moved higher, and I hated myself for the way my body responded. “But you’re still mine.”

His fingers found the edge of my hospital gown, pushing it up.

“Julian- my protest came out as a moan as his fingers found my clit through my underwear.

“That’s right,” he murmured. “Say my name.”

“We can’t–not here- but my hips were already rocking against his hand.

“Why not?” His other hand moved to my breast. “You’re my wife. I can touch you whenever I want.”

He pushed my underwear aside, his fingers sliding through my wetness. “Fuck, Elena. You’re soaking wet.”