Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Something inside me snapped.

I’d spent three years being quiet. Being obedient. Swallowing my pain and my pride.

Not tonight.

“I know exactly where I stand,” I said, my voice low and steady. “But here’s the thing, Catherine–I’m still his wife. And as long as am, I’ll stay right here. So if Julian wants me gone, he can tell me himself. Not you. Not Victoria. Him.”

Catherine’s eyes flashed with rage. “You little-*

Her hand rose, and I saw the slap coming.

But before it could land, fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her mid–swing.

Julian.

He stood behind her, his face a mask of cold fury. His gray eyes were ice, his jaw tight.

“Touch her,” he said softly, “and you’ll regret it.”

Catherine tried to pull her wrist free, but Julian’s grip held firm. “Julian, I was just-”

“Leaving,” he finished. “Right now. And if I ever see you near my wife again, if I even hear you’ve mentioned her name, I’ll make sure

your father’s firm loses every contract with Sterling Corp. Are we clear?”

Catherine’s face went white. She nodded, jerking her hand away the moment he released her.

She shot me one last venomous look before hurrying toward the front door, grabbing her clutch from the hall table and

disappearing into the night.

I stood there, trembling, my back pressed against the wall.

Julian turned to me, and for a moment, something flickered in his eyes–something almost like concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice gentler than I’d heard it in weeks.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

She won’t bother you again.” He reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek. “I meant what I said. Stay away from her.”

Then his expression shifted, hardening. “But Catherine was right about one thing

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14:38 Fri, Jun 12 #

Chapter 8

My heart stopped.

“Victoria’s coming back this week,” he said quietly. “She’s… she’s not well. Depression. She’s been struggling since Paris.”

Oh God.

Of course. Of course she was coming back. Of course she was sick. And of course Julian would feel responsible.

I wanted to ask him what that meant for us. For our marriage. For the baby I was carrying.

But before I could say anything, he leaned in.

His lips found my neck, pressing kisses to the sensitive skin there. His hands slid to my waist, pulling me against him.

“Julian- I gasped, my body responding even as my mind screamed at me to push him away.

But he didn’t listen. He just kept kissing, his mouth moving lower, his breath hot against my collarbone.

Then he buried his face in the crook of my neck, his forehead pressing against my shoulder. His body was tense, coiled like a spring, and I felt his fingers tighten on my hips.

It was almost like… like he was struggling. Like he was fighting something inside himself.

I raised my hand, instinctively reaching to touch his hair, to offer some kind of comfort-

He pulled back sharply, as if I’d burned him.

The cold mask was back, his face perfectly blank.

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