Her laugh was bitter. “When were you going to tell me? When the tabloids splashed it across the front page? Or never, just letting me stand by your side like some clueless fool?”
His voice broke when he spoke. “It wasn’t supposed to be anything that lasted. Not at first.”
Her eyes searched his face, her voice barely above a whisper. “And now?”
Jacob held her gaze, unable to hide what had already taken root inside him. His silence became its own confession.
“Oh my God.” Her breath caught, lips trembling when she spoke. “You really do love him.”
The words landed like a brand against his chest. He could have tried to lie, but the words wouldn’t pass his lips—not even to protect her from this.
Her hand came down against his chest. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him feel it. “Coward.”
“I’m sorry.” The words came broken, meaningless, but they were all he had.
Her laugh cracked like glass. “Sorry? Sorry doesn’t rewrite history. Sorry doesn’t erase the years I gave you, the children we raised, the sacrifices I made for your career.” She swallowed hard, voice ragged. “Oh God. Our children, Jacob. Did you even think about them while you were sneaking around and screwing him?”
He shook his head, barely able to get the words out. “I never meant to hurt you. Or them. I just… I lost control.”
She stared at him, tears bright in her eyes. “Do you even understand what you’ve done? Do you know what it feels like to look at your husband and not recognize him anymore? To be standing in a room full of people and realize the man you married is already gone?”
His jaw clenched, his eyes rimmed red, but no words came, because no words would change what was already in ruins. Thesilence dragged until he forced himself to break it. “I’ll move into the guest room.”
She stared, wet-cheeked, her body rigid.
“I’ll leave the house,” he continued. “I’ll find a place. Just give me a few days. This house is yours.”
Her voice cracked. “What about the kids?”
His chest tightened as though the words might break him. “I’ll never stop taking care of them. Or you. That doesn’t change. I’ll always be there for them.”
“Everything changes, Jacob.”
There was no argument left in him.
Her strength finally gave way as she sank onto the couch, her face crumpling into her hands. The sobs came raw and unrestrained, filling the room with a sound that broke him apart piece by piece.
Jacob moved slowly, every step deliberate. He lowered himself to the floor beside her. For a moment, he hovered, uncertain if he had the right. Then he let his hand rest lightly on her back, as though she might shatter if he pressed any harder.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, because there was nothing else left to say. Jacob didn’t notice the tears on his cheeks until they touched the floor. He was losing everything he’d once held most dear, and it was all his fault— because he couldn’t stop needing Liam.
Her body shook beneath his palm, but she didn’t tell him to leave.
The urge to scream tore through him, because none of this was what he had wanted. He had never meant to betray her or to unravel every promise he had made. He had just fallen—into something vast and consuming and terrifyingly real—and by the time he had tried to name it, it was already too late.
Staying here wasn’t an option anymore. Going forward was the only direction left, though he had no idea where it led, and he had never felt more lost.
Chapter 36
Caroline
Caroline hadn’t slept. She lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling while the shape of her marriage unraveled piece by piece in her head. Every creak of the house reminded her that Jacob was still here, but no longer in their bed. The space beside her had never felt so cold.
By morning, she had pieced herself together just enough to greet her parents when they dropped the kids back home. She’d fried eggs, poured juice, even joked about Grandma spoiling them too much during their sleepover. Her voice had sounded almost normal, but every word dragged in her chest, like it cost more than she had to give.
With the kids at school, the house was quiet again. She hated it. Hated how everything looked the same—the counter wiped clean, the coffee pot dripping, the faint smell of toast still lingering in the air. But none of it felt like the life she thought she was living. It was a replica, a cruel joke.
Jacob sat at the kitchen island, hunched over his coffee as if it held an answer. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair uncombed, and his eyes bloodshot. He looked like hell. At least she wasn’t the only one carrying it on her skin.
