Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 270

Chapter 270

Elena: POV

I stared at Julian, my carry-on feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds in my suddenly numb hand. Lila’s warm fingers slipped from my grasp as she

reached for him with that heartbreaking trust only children possess, the kind that hasn’t yet learned the world can be cruel.

“I know if I say this is a coincidence, you won’t believe me,” Julian said again, his voice rougher this time, like he’d been rehearsing the words but they still

came out wrong. “So I’ll just be honest. I’m here to go back with you.”

The fluorescent lights of JFK seemed too bright, the announcements echoing overhead too loud.

I watched Lila’s small hand curl around Julian’s much larger one, watched the way his entire face transformed-softened in a way I’d never seen, not even in

the fragments of memory that sometimes surfaced like drowning victims coming up for air.

“You tracked us,” I said flatly. Not a question. The anger I should have felt was somewhere distant, buried under layers of exhaustion and the lingering

vertigo from discovering Alexander had built our entire life on lies. “Again.”

“Yeah.” No shame in his voice, just that terrible certainty he always carried, like he was bracing for me to hit him but wouldn’t stop me if I did. “I wasn’t

about to let you and Lila travel alone.”

Not when someone tried to drug me and drag me into a van less than forty-eight hours ago. The words hung unspoken between us, heavy as stones.

“You’re shameless,” I said, and this time there was heat in it, anger finally breaking through the numbness. “You think you have any right to-

“Sad uncle!” Lila’s delighted squeal cut through my building fury. She was already tugging on his hand, bouncing on her toes in that way she did when she

was excited about something. “Did you come to surprise us?”

I watched Julian’s throat work as he swallowed, watched hini crouch down to her level with a carefulness that made my chest ache. “Something like that,

sweetheart,” he said softly, and God, the tenderness in his voice when he looked at her-like she was made of spun glass and starlight, like she was the most

precious thing he’d ever touched.

I reached out and gently but firmly took her hand back from his. “Lila, sweetheart, we don’t hold hands with strangers.”

“But Mommy- Her little face scrunched up in confusion, and I could see her trying to reconcile my words with the familiarity she felt. “The sad uncle isn’t

a stranger. We’ve seen him lots of times!”

Shit. Of course she remembered. The department store. The hospital. That awful scene in the cake shop where Alexander had nearly beaten him bloody. To

her four-year-old mind, Julian was just another familiar face in the rotating cast of adults who populated her world, no different from the barista at our

favorite café or the librarian who helped her pick out picture books.

‘Lila-‘

But Julian was already moving, bending down to scoop her up with an ease that made my stomach clench. She went willingly, wrapping her arms around his

neck like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I watched something crack open in his expression-something raw and desperate and so full of love

it hurt to look at.

And the way he held her-God, the way he held her. Like she was made of spun glass and starlight. Like she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

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