Chapter 91: Ninety One

The next morning, Jacob had already gotten my car repaired. I had completely forgotten about it once I had come back home, getting busy with Noah and chores at home. Then in the morning, he had thrown me my keys and told me to go start my car. I had kissed him thanks.

Every time he did something like this, I felt more and more confident in my decision to marry him. Sure, we did not have the passion of a couple that feels like fire. But he was sweet, dependable. I knew one thing for sure - he would always take care of Noah and I.

On my way back home, I bought some ingredients for a carbonara pasta, just a quick dinner as thanks for him being so good to me.

Jacob was sitting on the couch when I came home, his laptop open, a spreadsheet glowing on the screen. He looked up and smiled at me, and I grinned back. He looked nice, freshly showered, his hair still wet. The blue shirt made his skin look bright.

“Hey,” he said, closing the laptop. “Rough day?”

I hesitated in the doorway, my bag still slung over my shoulder. “Not rough. Just… tiring.” I dropped my bag onto the chair and walked toward him. His arms encircled my waist as he buried his head in my stomach. “Me too, babe.” He sighed.

“I’ll cook you a nice dinner.”

He smiled. “My perfect wife.” His hands withdrew from my waist as he went back to looking at his laptop. I felt some strange sensation in my body. Like a cord being cut.

My hands felt restless, tugging at the hem of my sweater. “Jacob, I’ve been thinking…”

He gave me that wary look he always got when I started sentences with I’ve been thinking. “Uh-oh. Should I be worried?”

“No.” I sat down beside him, tucking one leg under me. “It’s just… I don’t know, lately I’ve been feeling a little disconnected. From us.” The words felt clumsy but honest, hanging between us in the space where the TV would usually be murmuring in the background. “Maybe we should go on a date. Or a short trip, just the two of us. Something to… I don’t know… reset.”

He leaned back, studying me. “Disconnected how?”

I opened my mouth, then shut it. I couldn’t exactly say like I’m living beside you, not with you. Like every conversation feels like logistics. Like my body doesn’t respond to you anymore the way it used to.

Instead I said, “Just… the everyday grind, I guess. We don’t do fun things anymore. We used to.”

He was quiet for a beat, then nodded. “Okay. Yeah, I can see that. I’ll plan something. A weekend away, maybe? We could go hiking, or get a nice cabin in the woods.”

Relief flickered through me. “That sounds good.”

He leaned in and kissed me, his hand cupping the back of my neck. The kiss deepened, his other hand sliding to my waist, and before I could process, he was guiding me down onto the couch.

My body tensed.

I knew I should relax, lean into it, let him erase the distance I’d just confessed to. But my mind… it betrayed me.

Because the moment his lips brushed along my jaw, I wasn’t here on this couch anymore. I was somewhere else entirely — pressed up against the cold glass of a window, Declan’s hands on my hips, his breath hot against my

ear. The way he’d always seemed to know exactly where to touch, exactly how to move, like my body had been written in a language only he could read.

Jacob’s fingers traced along my side and I flinched before I could stop myself.

“Too ticklish?” he murmured against my neck.

“No, I just…” I swallowed, forcing my thoughts back into the room. Jacob’s weight was warm, solid, familiar. But it wasn’t… electric. It wasn’t making my pulse quicken or my breath catch. His kiss was methodical, a sequence he’d memorized years ago, not the unpredictable, dangerous thing Declan’s had been.

I remembered the last time Declan and I had been tangled in sheets, both of us half-laughing, half-gasping, the air charged with something raw and uncontained. He’d looked at me like I was fire and he wanted to burn.

Jacob was looking at me like I was… his fiancée.

I was supposed to want that.

But my body stayed stubbornly unresponsive, and I hated myself for it.

When Jacob’s hand slipped beneath my sweater, I caught his wrist gently. “Jacob… I’m just… I’m not really in the mood tonight.”

He pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing. “Not in the mood?”

I sat up, tucking my knees to my chest. “I’m sorry, I just…”

“This is kind of a pattern lately, isn’t it?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried that restrained frustration I’d heard before.

I looked down at the couch cushion between us. “I guess I’m just stressed.”

He exhaled sharply and stood, pacing toward the kitchen. “It’s always something. Work, Noah, now… us. You say you feel disconnected, but then you shut me out.”

“I’m not shutting you out, Jacob.”

“You are.” His tone was clipped. “You think a trip is going to magically fix things but you can’t even…” He cut himself off, shaking his head.

My throat tightened. “This isn’t about not wanting you. It’s just… I need time. I’m tired, Jacob.”

He leaned against the counter, looking at me for a long moment. “Fine. I’ll still plan something. Maybe it’ll help.”

I nodded, but inside, guilt was gnawing at me. Not just because I’d turned him down, but because part of me hadn’t even tried to turn off the reel of memories that kept playing in my head. Declan’s mouth on mine. Declan’s hands gripping my thighs. Declan’s voice, low and rough, saying my name like it was a prayer.

And the terrifying thing was… I wasn’t sure I wanted those memories to stop.