Filed to story: My Husband Regrets Divorcing Me (Audrey & Cornell)
Jamie’s resemblance to Nicole when she first appeared was supposed to be a red flag. At that time, however, his judgment was clouded, his thoughts constantly besieged by the memory of Nicole who feigned death, which blurred his analytical thinking.
The realization that Jamie was still alive shocked Jarrod, and the discovery that she was plotting against him left him even more bewildered. Jamie had a good cause for revenge. After all, he hadn’t spared her at that time.
Yet, Alec’s ongoing observations at the hospital hinted that the situation was even more intricate than it seemed. It appeared that Jamie wasn’t working by herself. There was someone else pulling the strings, someone who had even orchestrated Jamie undergoing surgery to resemble Nicole.
Back when Jamie vanished, she left everything behind and stayed under the radar, which suggested she couldn’t have afforded such high-end surgery by herself.
Clearly, someone else had financed her transformation. But who could it be? This individual was familiar with both Jamie and how important Nicole was to Jarrod.
Jarrod mulled over the possibilities but, at the moment, he had no concrete leads. However, since the one pulling the strings behind Jamie had made a mistake, uncovering the truth would not be impossible. Yet…
Jarrod glanced at the door, curious about Nicole’s decision.
In the kitchen, Nicole observed the housekeeper preparing the hangover soup. As it neared completion, she suggested the housekeeper take a break, assuring the housekeeper that she could handle the rest.
The housekeeper, assuming Nicole would serve the soup to Jarrod herself, left without giving it another thought.
Nicole gazed at the bowl, her mind elsewhere. It wasn’t until she reached for it and flinched from the heat that she realized she’d burned herself.
“Ouch!” she murmured, retracting her hand quickly to nurse her burn.
Just then, footsteps approached from behind.
“Are you okay?” Jarrod asked, examining her hand closely. Her fingertips had turned a light pink from the burn.
“I’m fine,” Nicole replied, her voice tinged with a nervousness that made her sound less confident than usual.
Silently, Jarrod took her by the hand and guided her to the sink to run cold water over the burn. After that, he fetched a tube of ointment from beneath the table. As he gently applied the ointment, he lightly scolded, “What had you so distracted that you didn’t notice the bowl was hot?”
The cool ointment was soothing when applied. Nicole found herself briefly lost in thought, gazing at her fingertips. Jarrod remained silent as he finished, waving her hand gently to dry the ointment, ensuring it wouldn’t stick.
Watching Jarrod, memories of her parents surfaced in Nicole’s mind. Her parents had shared a profound love. Despite aging, her mother would playfully lament to her father about every minor injury.
Her father cherished her mother and treated her tenderly, creating a nurturing home. Growing up, Nicole was vibrant and joyful, often hearing praises for her parents’ warm relationship.
However, despite their deep connection, fate cruelly parted them, with one mysteriously ending his life and one remaining alive but unconscious. These memories made Jarrod’s cooling breeze feel almost bitter. Nicole withdrew her hand abruptly.
“That’s enough. It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she said, her voice turning distant.
Jarrod didn’t insist. Standing abruptly, Nicole headed over to retrieve the hangover soup. Returning, she handed it to Jarrod. “Drink this. It’s warm.”
Jarrod examined the dark soup and inquired, “Did you make this?”
“No,” Nicole replied, shaking her head. “The housekeeper did. I just supervised at the end.”
“I’m not drunk,” Jarrod stated suddenly.
“Even if you aren’t, it’s beneficial. It contains medicinal herbs,” Nicole urged softly.
Without another word, Jarrod consumed the soup quickly. Seeing the empty bowl, Nicole’s features softened slightly. “I’ll just rinse this,” she offered, taking the bowl.
“Wait,” Jarrod interrupted.
Nicole tensed, pausing as she turned, striving to stay composed. “What is it?”
“Give me the bowl,” Jarrod approached and said.
Nicole clutched the bowl tighter, questioning, “Why?”
“Why what?” Jarrod furrowed his brow. “Your hand is burnt. You shouldn’t get it wet.”
Hesitant, Nicole replied, “I’m fine.”
Yet, Jarrod had already taken the bowl and headed to the sink, washing it himself. After drying his hands, he suggested, “Let’s go to bed.” Jarrod half-embraced Nicole, leading her back to the bedroom.
As she lay in bed, Nicole tensed the moment he drew near. Understanding her discomfort, especially after her visit to her mother, Jarrod knew she might recoil from his touch. He gently patted her arm. “Relax. I won’t touch you tonight.”
Surprised by his uncharacteristic consideration, Nicole remained tense, eyes shut. Eventually, feeling no further movement from him, her breathing evened out, and she fell into a deep, restorative sleep. As she was worn out from the day’s events, she fell into a deep, restful sleep.
Beside her, Jarrod watched her intently, resting his chin on his hand. After some time, he rose quietly and retreated to the bathroom for a cold shower.
Returning to bed, his phone illuminated. A message from Alec read, “Sir, don’t eat or drink anything that woman gives you.” Jarrod’s expression remained unreadable as he deleted the message. He lay down again beside Nicole.
Actually, Jarrod could have chosen not to drink the hangover soup. He could have confronted Nicole, but he desired to keep her close by his side. Despite the uncertainties of its contents, he drank it nonetheless.
Alec had warned that Jamie’s poison acted slowly. Slow meant there was still time to spend with Nicole and their child. That was all that mattered.
At dawn the next day, Jarrod woke to find Nicole already up. He hurried downstairs in search of her. Approaching a housekeeper, he inquired, “Have you seen my wife?”
The housekeeper responded with a smile, “Madam is in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for you.”
Jarrod was stunned.
The housekeeper beamed. “Sir, you’re in for a treat. Madam is quite the cook.”
Previously, Nicole’s aloof demeanor had cast a chill over the household. Even Austin, the usually quiet and frail child, felt it. The villa had lacked warmth, and the staff often spoke in hushed tones.
Now, with Nicole actively making breakfast for Jarrod, it seemed she was attempting to bridge the gap in their strained relationship. Given Jarrod’s profound affection for her, the housekeeper anticipated his delight. Though Jarrod often concealed his emotions, the housekeeper sensed his pleasure.
Entering the kitchen, Jarrod paused at the sight of Nicole bustling about. It felt surreal. He stood motionless until Nicole caught sight of him. She appeared cheerful, her mood uplifting. Noticing Jarrod in his pajamas, she gently suggested, “Go freshen up. Breakfast will be ready shortly.”
Jarrod gave a small nod. After refreshing himself and dressing, Jarrod joined Nicole and Austin at the breakfast table. The meal was simple but inviting: soy milk, sandwiches, and porridge, nourishing and traditionally prepared.
Austin, eyeing the soy milk and sandwiches eagerly, asked in a low voice, “Mommy, can I have some soy milk?”
As Jarrod reached for the ladle to serve Austin, Nicole intervened. “No, Austin, remember your restrictions?”
Austin knew, yet his desire was palpable. He implored gently, “Just one sip? Please?”
It was the first time he had made such a request, believing a small sip would be harmless.
Seeing his son’s yearning, Jarrod interjected, “Let him have just a sip. It should be fine.”
“What do you mean, ‘it should be fine’?” Nicole said sharply, her gaze piercing. “Do you even grasp the severity of Austin’s condition? He cannot have even a sip.”
Jarrod’s hand halted, the mood at the table chilling instantly. Austin, feeling the weight of their stares, whispered guiltily, “I won’t drink it.”
Nicole was firm. “Finish your porridge and your medicinal meal.”
Austin bowed his head, eating in silence. Jarrod set the soy milk in front of himself.
Nicole then questioned him, “Why aren’t you drinking it?”
Jarrod remained silent, his eyes shifting between the soy milk and her. Confused by his look, Nicole reached for the soy milk, intending to drink it herself.
In a swift motion, Jarrod grabbed it from her hands. “I’ll drink it,” he declared. Jarrod downed the soy milk quickly. As he was about to refill his bowl, Nicole intervened.
Nicole placed Jarrod’s bowl on the table. “Too much soy milk isn’t good for you.”
The shift in Jarrod’s expression left Nicole puzzled about its meaning. She gestured toward the sandwiches. “Try some of these.”
“Okay.” Jarrod obediently picked up a sandwich and bit into it, savoring the flavor.
After finishing his meal and medicinal food, Austin stood up to leave. With little appetite, Nicole stood up as well. “I’m done,” she announced. This left Jarrod alone at the table.
When the housekeeper arrived later to clear the dishes, she noticed that most of the food was gone. Jarrod typically had a disciplined breakfast, just coffee, a slice of bread, and half a steak.
Today, he had eaten much more. The housekeeper credited Nicole’s cooking skills for the change. She cleared the table with a smile.
Jarrod went upstairs and found Nicole teaching Austin to read. After watching for a moment, he left.
As soon as Jarrod entered his car, Alec, who was waiting inside, leaned closer. “Sir, you didn’t eat anything that woman gave you, did you?”
Alec’s tone mixed concern with worry, fearing that Jarrod had fallen for Nicole’s charms.
Jarrod remained silent, darkening Alec’s expression. “You ate it?” he asked incredulously.
“Mind your own business,” Jarrod responded icily.
Exasperated, Alec said, “If you’re so determined to risk your life, let me know. I might as well die now if you’re going to.”
Jarrod shot him a cold glance. “What nonsense are you talking about?”
“Is it nonsense?” Alec challenged. “You know she’s poisoning you, yet you still eat her food. If that’s not risking your life, what is?”
“There’s no evidence she’s poisoning me,” Jarrod interrupted sharply.
Alec, still furious, insisted, “No evidence? I heard it myself! That woman had agreed to poison you.”
“Watch your language!” Jarrod snapped. “She’s my wife. Stop making baseless accusations.”