Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Elena: POV

He didn’t answer my question about Victoria, and his silence sat on my chest like a boulder.

I forced a smile and asked, wrapping my arms around his neck despite the ache in my chest. “What if you’ve fallen in love with me?”

Julian froze. Just for a heartbeat. Then he shook his head, almost frantically, like he was trying to shake off something that had seeped too deep.

He leaned down, his mouth finding my nipple through the thin fabric of my dress. He sucked hard, making me gasp, then pulled back to look at me with those stormy gray eyes.

“Oh, I’m in love with you alright,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “In love with this body. The way you tremble beneath me–like some beautiful, fragile fucking flower.” His hand cupped my face, thumb dragging across my lips. “But the rest of you? Yeah, don’t flatter yourself.”

The words hit me like a slap. I felt something inside me crack–small at first, like a hairline fracture in glass.

Just the body. Never the person.

A bitter smile twisted my lips. I knew exactly how to push his buttons now.

“You know what?” I said softly. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should stop waiting around for you to figure out what you want. Maybe I should just…. move on.

His eyes narrowed. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means when we’re divorced, I’m free to see whoever I want. Ethan’s been clear about his interest. Maybe I’ll finally give him a real chance.”

I felt his entire body go rigid beneath me.

“Or maybe someone else,” I added. “Someone who actually sees me as more than just a convenient body to fuck. Someone who-”

His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my throat.

“Stop talking,” he growled, his face inches from mine. His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make breathing difficult. “Stop fucking talking right now.”

“Why?” I choked out, my pulse hammering against his palm. “Doesn’t it feel good to hear the truth? That I’m not yours? That I never really was?”

‘Elena, did you really think you were irreplaceable?”

“Let me go. My voice came out strangled, tears burning my eyes. “Let me go, Julian. Just… let me go.”

For a moment, we stayed frozen like that–his hand on my throat, my tears spilling over, the car still gliding through Manhattan’s dark streets.

Then he released me abruptly, like I’d burned him.

Without my phone. Without my purse. Without my fucking shoes.

I stood there shivering, my bare feet against the freezing pavement. Tears streamed down my face, and I wiped them away angrily.

Fuck him. Fuck him for doing this.

I glanced around, getting my bearings. There was a 24–hour bodega about half a block down, its

I started walking, my feet screaming with each step. A few people passed me and stared.

Let them stare. I was past caring. neon sign flickering in the darkness.

The bodega was bright and warm. The clerk looked up, then did a double–take when he saw my bare feet.

‘Miss, are you-

“I’m fine,” I said quickly, moving toward the back where I’d spotted a rack of cheap flip–flops. “Just need shoes.”

I grabbed a pair–ugly plastic things in neon pink–and headed to the register. As I passed a display, I grabbed a bottle of water too. My throat was dry, my mouth tasting like ash.