Chapter 592 Jacob Proposes Divorce 1
Serafina didn't look up. "I'm not hungry."
"You still need to eat something." He approached her, gently pulling the book from her hands, his voice softer than before. "I'll have the staff bring something up. Just a little."
Serafina asked if he'd eaten.
Jacob removed his jacket and settled into the sofa across from her. He didn't mention dining out, nor his meeting with Jade.
Right now, he simply wanted to be with Serafina—perhaps a last desperate attempt to salvage what remained of their marriage. Yet he knew this gesture had nothing to do with love; it was guilt, pure and simple.
Neither objected to the arrangement.
Jacob went downstairs briefly.
When he returned to the master bedroom, Serafina was reading again. This time he didn't take her book away. Instead, he said quietly, "If you'd like to see your mother, I can arrange visits twice a week."
Serafina didn't refuse. "Thank you," she said, her voice gentle but distant.
Jacob froze.
Her tone was soft yet painfully polite, as if he'd granted her some extraordinary favor. But they were husband and wife, weren't they? He was Lila's son-in-law—supporting Serafina's mother should have been natural, expected. Yet Serafina's courtesy felt like a wall between them.
He stood there for a long moment before managing a bitter smile.
They'd reached the end, though neither would say it aloud.
Jacob couldn't understand his own hesitation. He knew the outcome, yet kept postponing the inevitable. Perhaps he was waiting for some miraculous night when Serafina might soften, might reach for him in the darkness, press close and make everything right again. If that happened, maybe he could believe in their marriage once more.
But it never came. Serafina remained distant.
A month later, Jacob couldn't resist reaching for her. When he pulled her close, she stiffened but didn't resist, lying passive beneath him in the darkness. She neither fought nor participated, leaving Jacob feeling emptier than before.
Afterward, he retreated to the bathroom to collect himself.
Serafina knew Jacob remained unsatisfied, but she had no energy left for pretense. She couldn't invest in this dying marriage anymore. She lay still, slowly adjusting her nightgown.
Water ran in the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, Jacob emerged, hair damp, his sharp features shadowed in the darkness. His tall frame loomed over her as he stood beside the bed before finally sliding under the covers. He positioned himself so she could rest against him, but soon felt her subtle shift away.
Serafina wanted no intimacy.
Jacob didn't force it. He reached for the cigarette pack on the nightstand, shaking one out but not lighting it. He stared into the darkness while Serafina feigned sleep, refusing all connection.
They had finally reached the end.
"Let's get divorced." Jacob heard his own voice, calm yet hoarse.
He didn't know what prompted this sudden resolve—to free both her and himself, to sever all ties between them.
Yes, divorced couples had no relationship. None for the rest of their lives.
The moment he spoke, Jacob regretted it. He found himself terrified that Serafina might agree readily, almost hoping she'd cling to him, fight for them—anything to avoid this ending.
But some things couldn't be undone. Not feelings, not marriage.
Beside him, his estranged wife whispered hoarsely, "Alright."
Jacob's body went rigid.
In that instant, his scalp prickled and his blood seemed to flow backward, as if something vital was draining from his very soul.
Serafina pushed back the covers and rose.
Instinctively, Jacob blocked her path, gripping her slender wrist tightly.
"Where are you going?" His voice was barely recognizable.
"To the guest room," Serafina said quietly.
"Stay here." Jacob didn't release her, his dark eyes unreadable in the shadows, concealing his true emotions.
Serafina found it both tragic and absurd. He'd suggested divorce, yet now he acted as if he couldn't bear to let her go.