Chapter 606 Serafina, Come Live with Me in Evergreen City 3
Jacob's eyes held a man's tenderness and a father's devotion.
He loved children—loved the child Serafina had given him. He longed to care for them both personally, to share their daily lives. He had never craved family like this before, wondering if it came with age.
Serafina remained silent.
Unable to help himself, he continued, "Serafina, I have so many regrets."
Serafina leaned against the headboard, bathed in the warm amber glow of the bedside lamp that seemed to wrap her in translucent silk.
She smiled faintly. "Do you regret filing for divorce? Actually, Jacob, even if you hadn't brought it up, I would have. Our marriage was already dead and buried by then. It didn't matter who said it first—we couldn't go on."
Jacob looked down at Abigail.
Abigail had awakened. The tiny newborn couldn't see clearly beyond a foot, but she seemed drawn to Jacob's scent. One little finger hooked around his sleeve where it rested on the bed rail, and as she tugged, Abigail began to smile, her four little limbs flailing adorably in the air.
Jacob's heart melted as he leaned down to nuzzle against Abigail.
After a moment, he asked Serafina quietly, "When did you find out you were pregnant?"
Serafina considered, then told the truth. "The day we signed the divorce papers. I'd just been to the hospital for tests—that's when I found out for certain."
The day they signed the papers.
Jacob could barely process it.
His voice strained, he pressed on, "Why didn't you tell me? If you had, maybe we could have—"
Serafina gently cut him off. "Maybe we wouldn't have divorced? But Jacob, I truly didn't want to continue our marriage then. Even with a baby, I still wanted to leave you. I wasn't foolish about it—I took fifty million dollars and a house worth tens of millions. That was more than enough to raise a child."
Jacob studied her intently.
A spark of anger flared within him, and he called her out. "You planned to have the baby in secret, figuring that once I married and had children of my own, I wouldn't bother with this one, didn't you? But you never counted on the baby coming early. Serafina, I'm sorry to have disrupted your peaceful life again."
His words carried an unmistakable message: he wasn't letting her go this time.
Serafina was still recovering from childbirth and didn't want to argue with him.
Her composure came from a quiet promise Oliver and Sarah had made before leaving—that regardless of what happened between her and Jacob, Abigail would stay with her. The Windsor family wouldn't take the child away.
For a long while, Serafina said nothing.
Jacob studied her serene expression, unable to read her thoughts. Desperate to reconcile with her, he was losing his patience and started to rise, intending to press her for answers. But before he could stand, Abigail began crying in her crib.
Her beautiful little face scrunched up in distress.
Her tiny body writhed restlessly.
Jacob assumed she'd wet or soiled her diaper. Without hesitation, he lifted Abigail into his arms and gently removed her diaper. Finding it clean, he discovered a cluster of angry red welts covering her bottom.
Abigail lay against Jacob's chest, crying even harder with pitiful little whimpers.
Serafina threw back her covers to get up.
But Jacob wouldn't let her. He pressed the call button for the doctor and nurses. The experienced medical staff quickly diagnosed Abigail with a diaper allergy—the only solution was switching to pure cotton cloth diapers.
Cotton diapers had virtually disappeared from the market, and it was the middle of the night.
But Jacob couldn't bear Abigail's discomfort. He grabbed his car keys, preparing to venture out.
Serafina glanced toward the window.
The pitch-black night was still lashed by torrential rain, and Crystal City was prone to flash floods and mudslides. Jacob going out alone in unfamiliar territory at this hour was dangerous.
She stopped him. "Use some clothing as makeshift padding for now. We can find proper diapers in the morning."
Just as she finished speaking, Abigail strained with effort—a golden mess landed squarely on Jacob.
A long, awkward silence followed.
Jacob set his keys aside, cleaned Abigail's bottom, and applied fresh ointment. As he gently patted her tiny behind, he spoke to Serafina. "Two hours, tops."
Serafina didn't try to stop him again.
She slowly got out of bed and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. The black night continued its relentless downpour, seemingly endless. Her fingers touched the cold glass as she whispered for him to be careful. Her voice was barely audible, but Jacob heard.
He pulled on a black windbreaker.
Moments later, Serafina stood at the window watching his figure appear beside the car below. She watched quietly as Jacob was about to open the car door when he seemed to sense her gaze. Gripping the door handle, he looked up at her.
Rain soaked through his windbreaker, but he didn't care.
Through the curtain of rain, he gazed up at Serafina, taking in her hazy silhouette and blurred features. Though he couldn't see clearly, he knew she was waiting for his return.
Someone was waiting for him.
Jacob's heart lurched violently.
He got into the car. Of course, he wouldn't drive around Crystal City searching for baby diapers. Instead, he called Anya, instructing her to contact a high-end textile manufacturer and have workers create baby diapers from the finest cotton available.
Anya answered groggily.
She couldn't help but grumble internally, 'It's three in the morning, and there's a storm outside! Where am I supposed to find fabric to make diapers?'
But Anya was capable of anything.
An hour later, Jacob drove to the factory himself to oversee Abigail's diaper production. Once completed, he found a premium laundry service to wash and dry the diapers, ensuring no chemical residue remained.
Finished, Jacob loaded two large boxes of diapers into his trunk and headed back to the hospital.
Anya stood under her umbrella, watching the black Rolls-Royce disappear into the distance. She couldn't help but think, 'Those two boxes of diapers had cost $500,000. Such was a CEO father's love—some children are born at the pinnacle of privilege. How fortunate!'
1 AM.
Jacob's car pulled up slowly below the hospital.
After parking, he got out to unload the diapers. Though the downpour had lessened to a light drizzle, Jacob's clothes were thoroughly soaked. But he didn't mind—his thoughts were entirely focused on Serafina and Abigail, wanting to ensure his daughter's comfort.
Through the pale curtain of rain, a slender figure stood watching from beneath an umbrella.
It was Chloe.
Two days earlier, Oliver and Sarah had personally visited the Everhart family to apologize and cancel the wedding. The Windsor family had offered extremely generous compensation—more money than she could earn in a lifetime. Her parents had considered and agreed, knowing they couldn't afford to cross the Windsor family, especially with such a sincere offer.
But Chloe had refused. She insisted on seeing Jacob first before making any decisions.
So she had come to Crystal City.
She watched him race across the city in the dead of night, all for his daughter's diapers. She saw him alone in the rain, carrying heavy boxes. The once-pristine Jacob would never have done such menial work, but now he acted like any ordinary father, willing to do anything for his child.
Chloe knew she had lost.
She hadn't lost to Serafina—she had lost to timing.
Though resentment burned within her, she couldn't bring herself to blame Jacob. She only hated Serafina for deceiving everyone.
Why hadn't she terminated the pregnancy after the divorce? Why give birth at all? It had to be deliberate.
Chloe didn't reveal herself.
She had come to Crystal City quietly, and just as quietly, she left.
Serafina had been waiting for Jacob all along.
The hospital room door opened softly, and Jacob appeared after his three-hour absence, carrying the dampness of the storm and two waterproof boxes filled with Abigail's diapers.
Under the cool lamplight, it would be a lie to say she felt nothing.
Serafina spoke softly, her voice hoarse beyond recognition, "Jacob, your clothes are soaked."