Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 95

Please Come Back, My Love

Chapter 95

Our child.

The way he said it-possessive, protective-made something warm unfurl in my chest.

“Thank you, I whispered.

Julian’s eyes met mine, and for once, they weren’t cold. They were… searching.

“Elena,” he said slowly. “When you said you wanted me to trust you-”

“I meant it.” I sat up straighter. “Not just about the baby. About everything. No more assuming the worst. No more believing Victoria’s version of events without even asking mine.”

He was quiet for a long moment.

“I don’t know if I know how to do that,” he admitted. “Trust doesn’t… come easily to me.”

“Then learn.”

The words came out sharper than I intended. But fuck it. I was tired. Tired of being doubted, questioned, treated like some manipulative gold-digger when all I’d ever done was love him.

Julian stood abruptly, moving to the window. His back was rigid.

“My whole life,” he said quietly, “I’ve been taught to question everything. Trust is weakness in my world. It’s how you get destroyed.”

“I’m not your world,” I shot back. “I’m your wife. And if you can’t trust me-if you can’t even try-then what the hell are we doing?”

He spun around, and the look on his face made my breath catch.

Raw. Vulnerable. Terrified.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said hoarsely. “Or the baby. I know I’ve been shit at showing it, but-” He broke off, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Care about someone more than myself.”

The admission hung in the air between us.

I should’ve been angry. Should’ve told him it was too little, too late.

Instead, I held out my hand.

“Come here.”

He crossed the room slowly, sinking onto the edge of my hospital bed.

You dont have to be perfect; I said quietly. “You just have to try. Really try.”

Julian’s hand found my stomach again, palmy warm through the thin hospital gown.

‘I will,” he promised. “I swear to God, Elena, I’ll try.”

Slowly, carefully, we were learning each other.

It wasn’t love. Not yet.

But it was… something.

One evening, about three weeks after the hospital, Julian found me sketching in bed.

“You miss it,” he said. Not a question.

“Yeah. I do.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “For now, just focus on taking care of yourself and the baby. Your position at the company-I’m keeping it for you. Whenever you’re ready to come back.”

The-urler was generous. Thoughtful, even.

But it made something twist in my chest.

Because suddenly, I remembered Ethan’s offer.

Milan. A fresh start. A chance to prove anyself without the Sterling nanie, without lutian’s shadow

I’d been so caught up in everything-the pregnancy, the hospital, trying to make this marriage work that I’d completely forgotten about it.

My hand hovered over my phone and sent a text to Ethan: [Sorry, I can’t go to Milan anymore.]