Chapter 125: Hundred and Twenty Five

I knew the moment I stepped through the door that it was going to be bad.

The house was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet, but the heavy, expectant kind.

I had texted Jacob a few hours ago that I’d be late. He had seen it, but not texted back.

When I walked in, Noah’s toys were scattered across the living room, but he wasn’t there. Jacob stood in the center of the room instead, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his face shadowed by the single lamp still lit.

“You’re late,” he said flatly.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Past ten. Later than I’d planned, yes, but not unreasonable. I had been at a work event, a work dinner, where Declan happened to be present. I had lingered a little longer than I should have, maybe. Talking with colleagues. Talking with him.

“I told you there was an event tonight,” I said softly, setting down my bag. “It ran over. I -”

“Don’t,” Jacob cut me off, his voice sharp, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “Don’t stand there and make excuses.”

My stomach tightened. “I’m not making excuses. I was working.”

“Working,” he repeated, like the word tadted sour on his tongue. He stepped closer, his body towering over mine. The huge figure that used to feel safe suddenly made me feel…really uneasy. “Or sneaking around with him?”

My mouth went dry. “Its not like that. I texted you, too.”

“How the fuck would I know where you are, Willow? For all I know you were opening your legs for him in the back of his car.”

“Jacob,” I whispered, careful, calm. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do this?” His laugh was bitter, strangled. “I’ve watched you these past weeks. Distracted. Distant. Don’t think I don’t notice. Every time you come home, you’ve got this look on your face. Like your mind’s somewhere else. Like you’re not here anymore.”

I forced my voice to steady. “You’re imagining things.”

“I’m imagining?” His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist so tightly I gasped. His fingers dug into my skin, cutting off the blood flow. “Tell me, Willow. Was he there tonight? Declan?”

The sound of his name on Jacob’s lips made my chest seize.

“Yes,” I admitted, breath trembling. “He was there. But nothing happened. Nothing, Jacob.”

His jaw clenched, his eyes dark. “You expect me to believe that?”

“Because it’s the truth!” My voice rose despite myself, desperate. “You have to believe me I-”

The rest of the sentence was lost as he shoved me hard against the wall. My shoulder collided with the plaster, pain shooting down my arm. The breath left my lungs. My wrist throbbed in his grip, my heart pounding against my ribs with shock.

For a moment, his face hovered inches from mine, twisted with rage. I the man who had once seemed safe, steady, who had promised to take care of me when I thought I couldn’t stand on my own. And now here he was, towering over me, making me feel smaller than I had in years.

“Jacob,” I managed, my voice a broken whisper. “You’re hurting me.”

He released my wrist abruptly, and I stumbled, pressing my sore arm against my chest. My skin already burned where he’d held me.

We were both surprised, staring at each other, eyes wide. Me, clutching my arm, him staring at me head on, a blank look in his eyes.

Before I could gather my breath, a small voice cut through the tension.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

Noah stood in the doorway, his pajamas rumpled, hair sticking up like he’d just tumbled out of bed. His eyes were wide, confused, frightened. He looked between us, sensing the charged air.

The sight of him broke me.

I moved quickly, putting myself between him and Jacob. My voice softened instantly, even as my body trembled. “Hey, baby. It’s okay. Go back to bed.”

He didn’t move. His little brow furrowed. “Are you and Daddy fighting?”

The word “Daddy” sliced through me. It had always been easier that way, for Noah to call Jacob that. It was simpler, safer. But in this moment, hearing it made my stomach twist.

“No,” I said firmly, kneeling to meet Noah’s eyes. “We’re not mad, baby. Everything’s fine. Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

Behind me, Jacob shifted, his silence heavy, suffocating. Noah was looking between us, sensing the tension.

I placed a gentle hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go back to your room, sweetheart? I’ll come tuck you in.”

Noah hesitated, his eyes darting to Jacob. Then, reluctantly, he nodded and shuffled back down the hall.

The second he was gone, I turned back to Jacob, my voice hard, trembling with both fear and fury. “Don’t you ever put your hands on me like that again.”

For a moment, he looked almost startled by my sharpness. Then he ran a hand over his face, muttering something under his breath I couldn’t catch.

I didn’t wait for more. “Go,” I ordered quietly. “Get out of this room. Now.”

His eyes locked on mine, full of things unsaid, but he obeyed. He walked past me, the tension in his shoulders clearly visible, and disappeared into the kitchen.

I could hear him open the cabinet and close it. He was pouring himself a drink.

I pressed my back against the wall, sliding down until I was on the floor. My wrist throbbed where his hand had been. My shoulder ached from where I’d hit the wall.

But more than the physical pain was the truth settling heavy in my chest.

He had crossed a line tonight. One we couldn’t go back from.

I buried my face in my hands, muffling the sob that escaped. For Noah’s sake, I had tried to keep the peace. To pretend. To swallow my unease. But tonight, there was no pretending left.