Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 263

Chapter 263

Elena: POV

I stared at the phone screen until my eyes burned, reading and rereading the same obituary.

Josephine Vance, 62, passed away from complications related to pancreatic cancer just weeks after her foster daughter, Elena Vance, was reported missing following

a suspected suicide attempt. Authorities recovered Ms. Vance’s belongings near the Brooklyn Bridge, but her body was never found.

I stopped reading. I couldn’t breathe.

Suicide attempt. Body never found.

The words blurred together as tears fell onto the screen. Josephine was dead. The woman who’d taken me in when no one else would, who’d taught me to

bake chocolate chip cookies and helped me with my homework-she was gone. And she’d died thinking I was dead too.

All this time, while I’d been living this perfect life with Alexander, playing house and pretending to be someone I wasn’t, Josephine had been dying. Alone.

Grieving for a daughter who wasn’t even really dead.

“Miss? We’re here.”

The cabbie’s voice jolted me back. I blinked, realizing we’d stopped in front of Alexander’s Mayfair townhouse. The Georgian facade looked imposing in the

dim streetlight, all those perfect windows staring down at me like accusing eyes.

I paid quickly with shaking hands and stumbled out, my legs barely holding me up. The evening air was crisp, cutting through the fog in my head just

enough for me to function.

The house was dark except for a single light in the kitchen. I let myself in quietly, half-hoping Alexander would be asleep so could postpone this confrontation until morning. But as I stepped into the foyer, I heard footsteps on the marble floor.

And then he was there, standing in the kitchen doorway with a glass of whiskey in his hand, still wearing his work clothes but with his tie loosened and his

sleeves rolled up. He looked tired, older somehow than he had this morning.

“Elena,” he said, his voice carefully neutral. “I was starting to worry.”

I stared at him, this man who’d claimed to love me, who’d built a life with me, who’d given me a daughter. His dark hair was slightly mussed, probably from

running his hands through it-something he did when he was stressed.

And all I could think was: How much of it was a lie?

“Alexander,’ I said slowly, my voice trembling. “I need you to tell me the truth.”

His expression didn’t change, but I saw the flicker of something in his eyes. Wariness. Maybe even fear. His grip tightened almost imperceptibly on the whiskey glass.

“About what?” he asked, though we both knew he already knew.

I took a step closer, my hands clenched into fists. About Josephine. About how I ended up in that river. About- My voice cracked. “About whether Lila is really yours.”

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2:00 pm P P P W

Chapter 263

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, swirling the whiskey in his glass, the amber liquid catching the light. His jaw was tight, and I could see the muscle working as he ground his teeth.

The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating. Somewhere in the house, I could hear the grandfather clock in the living room ticking, marking the seconds of my life that had been built on lies.

And then, finally, he set the glass down on the marble countertop with a soft clink and met my eyes.

“I saved you,” he said quietly. “That’s the truth, Elena. I pulled you out of that river when no one else would. I gave you a life when you had nothing left.

And yes, I—* He hesitated, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “I may have… edited certain details. But I did it to protect you. To give you a

fresh start.

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