Chapter 554 Jacob, It's Too Late!
The world seemed to freeze in that moment.
Only the crystal chandelier above cast its light around them, wrapping them in an intimate cocoon that held echoes of their six years together. Those years hadn't been only pain—there had been beautiful moments too.
The memories crashed over Nicole like a relentless tide, threatening to drown her. She looked into Jacob's anguished eyes as he spoke those words—words he had planned to save for their wedding day, now spoken when she already belonged to another man. She was Theron's wife.
Jacob hadn't forgotten, and Nicole could never forget either. She lowered her gaze, her voice barely a whisper. "It's too late, Jacob."
"Love and marriage aren't just about loving or not loving—they're about compatibility, about acceptance. There was no right or wrong between us. You were moving too fast, and I couldn't keep up." Her voice grew steadier with each word. "I tried, Jacob. I really tried."
"I threw myself into painting, hoping that someday when I stood beside you, I wouldn't be worthless. I wanted people to respect your choice, not question whether we belonged together. But business was all you cared about. You couldn't see my efforts—you dismissed them as mere hobbies." Tears gathered in her eyes. "My struggles meant nothing to you. To you, my only value was... physical."
"I was in so much pain back then." Her voice broke slightly. "Under that kind of suffering, how much love could I have left?"
Finally, she had spoken her truth. Four years after their separation, after becoming Theron's wife, after all possibilities between them had died—she laid bare her heart. Now there would be no regrets.
"Let me go," Nicole whispered. "It wouldn't look good if we were seen."
Jacob stepped closer. "You're afraid he'll see? You've fallen for him?"
"Yes." Nicole's lips trembled, but her voice was resolute. She repeated with conviction, "Yes, I care for him. I wouldn't have married him otherwise."
"You married him in a war zone during active bombing. Don't tell me you had time for romance under those circumstances."
"Feelings can grow," Nicole replied steadily. "I care for him, Jacob. I care for him."
The silence that followed was deafening.
From downstairs, Theron's warm voice drifted up. "Nicole, time to go."
Nicole startled, pulling her hand free. When she responded, her voice carried a slight tremor. "Coming."
She turned back to Jacob one final time, raising her left hand to show him the stock transfer documents. "This is twenty percent of the company shares. I can't accept them. I'll transfer these to your name instead. No matter how much Mom and Dad love me, these shares shouldn't go to someone outside the Windsor family. I know how important this is for your control of the company. You've worked so hard—I shouldn't take what's rightfully yours."
Jacob glanced toward where Theron waited below. "Can't accept them, or don't want them? Now that you've married Theron, you don't need material things or the Windsor family's protection anymore?"
"You know that's not why." Nicole said nothing more.
She hadn't forgotten that Theron was waiting, hadn't forgotten she was a married woman. She couldn't let him misunderstand.
When she reached Theron's side, he asked no questions. Instead, he draped his coat around her shoulders, fastening each button with deliberate care. The gesture seemed casual but carried an unmistakable possessiveness.
Jacob remained on the stairs, watching their harmonious partnership, their obvious affection for each other, while he stood like a pathetic third wheel. Yet he had loved Nicole first. He had been the one to accompany her from youth to maturity. The injustice of it all burned in his chest.
Oliver saw everything clearly. After seeing Nicole and Theron off, he found Jacob in the living room, leafing through a photo album on the sofa. Jacob barely glanced up at the sound of footsteps, his expression blank.
Oliver settled onto the opposite sofa, pulling out his cigarette case and shaking out two cigarettes. He tossed one to Jacob. "Don't tell your mother—she doesn't approve of smoking."
Jacob remained silent.
Oliver lit his cigarette and took a long, satisfying drag. Soon, pale blue smoke curled around them both, making everything seem distant and unreal. Through the haze, Oliver spoke with bitter resignation.
"Jacob, I know you haven't given up on her." He paused, taking another drag. "But what can we do? Nicole brought Theron home. They're legally married. No matter how much you care for her or how unwilling you are to let go, you can't destroy a marriage. Especially not when the man involved is Theron."
"Let go of the past, Jacob. Release her, and you'll free yourself too." Oliver's voice grew more persuasive. "You don't care for Amelia, so let the family help you find someone else. I've had my eye on Isadora Penrose. She's intelligent, capable, and beautiful. Their younger daughter Serafina might not be as sharp, but she's gentle and obedient—less trouble as a sister-in-law."
A flame flickered as Jacob lit his own cigarette, drawing slowly on it. He had no intention of going on blind dates, hadn't given up on Nicole, and was still waiting for her to divorce and return to him. But he couldn't let Oliver suspect his true feelings.
Jacob flicked ash from his cigarette with elegant fingers, his voice casual and slightly bored. "Isn't Isadora just another Amelia? Dad, I'm not interested in career women. If I must meet someone, I'd prefer Serafina."
Oliver studied him suspiciously. "You're not looking for a substitute, are you?"
"Of course not." Jacob leaned forward to extinguish his cigarette, maintaining his aristocratic composure. "I simply prefer gentler women. Didn't you just say obedient ones cause less trouble?"
"Really?"
Jacob gave a dismissive laugh. "What else would it be?"
Oliver relaxed, rising to pat Jacob's shoulder. "I'll have your mother arrange dinner then. I'll need to tell Mr. Penrose you're interested in Serafina."
After Oliver left, the living room fell quiet again. Jacob sat for a long while before moving to the terrace, standing in the darkness as the night wind ruffled his hair. Under the bright moon, he thought of Nicole beside Theron, his heart filled with bitterness and jealousy.
The black Bentley sped through the night streets. The car was warm, but Nicole kept Theron's coat wrapped around her, her cheek pressed against the fine fabric. She found comfort in his lingering scent.
Theron focused on driving but spared her a glance, smiling softly. "No wonder you like to sleep curled up against someone—just like a child."
Nicole's cheeks flushed pink. She settled back against her seat and told him quietly about the wedding gifts from Oliver and Sarah. She explained that while she might accept the jewelry, she didn't want the twenty percent stake in Windsor Group—the amount was too substantial, and she felt she should discuss it with him out of respect.
Theron's hands remained steady on the steering wheel as he smiled approvingly. "That is quite a lot. But since you're giving up such wealth for my sake, I should reciprocate somehow. I'll put my properties and liquid assets under your management—keep you busy."
Nicole's face turned an even deeper shade of red. "I'm not doing it for you!" she protested softly. "I'm doing it for myself! I don't care about material possessions—I can earn my own living."
Her indignation was utterly charming. Theron felt his heart skip, though he hid it well behind a gentle smile. "Then could you support me too? Help me pick out some new shirts for the season change? You can choose the styles—would you mind?"
Nicole quietly agreed, and he gave her his measurements. She memorized them carefully, but then Theron chuckled. "Actually, that was rather pointless of me."
Nicole huffed in mock annoyance, but Theron gently took her hand, his voice tender as he asked, "Feeling better now?"