She Took The House The Car And My Heart

Chapter 917:

Jacob pressed his lips into a thin line but ultimately retreated to his room without another word.

Lawrence remained rooted in place, bewilderment washing over him. He had crafted such a pitiful image of himself, yet Jacob hadn’t offered even the smallest comfort, not even the simplest embrace.

An impulse to pound on Jacob’s door and demand answers surged through him, but the carefully curated persona he’d established wouldn’t permit such a reaction.

Unrestrained behavior. Instead, he collapsed onto the couch, mind churning with unspoken thoughts, and allowed his eyelids to drift closed.

The exhaustion from a day of flying and battling jet lag quickly claimed him. Within ten minutes, sleep had pulled him under, right there on the living room couch.

Behind his closed door, Jacob wrestled with conflicting impulses. Should he prepare something for Lawrence to eat? Every fiber of his being resisted the idea. Yet if he didn’t intervene, Lawrence would likely go hungry, too caught in his apparent misery to order food.

Should he let Lawrence starve under his roof?

After considerable internal debate, Jacob set aside his book with a sigh and rose from his chair. His reluctance to display direct concern didn’t negate his ability to assist in more subtle ways.

The moment he opened his door, however, he discovered Lawrence sprawled across the couch, deep in slumber. His eyebrows knitted together in mild surprise. Had fatigue truly overwhelmed Lawrence so completely?

“Lawrence, Lawrence. Wake up.” Jacob prodded him gently with his leg. Lawrence stirred from his sleep with foggy disorientation clouding his consciousness.

When his eyes fluttered open to find Jacob towering above him, draped in a loose white knit sweater that complemented his gentle features—features that somehow managed to convey both casual ease and emotional distance—his mind briefly short-circuited.

Ⱡ𝖆𝓉𝓮𝓼𝓉 ςһ𝓪ρ𝑡𝑒𝗋𝓈 ⳑ𝖆𝓁𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀․ⅽ𝗈𝗺

Without conscious thought, Lawrence bolted upright and wrapped his arms around Jacob’s waist, burying his face against the soft wool covering Jacob’s stomach. His voice emerged muffled yet laden with undisguised vulnerability. “Jacob, am I really that useless?”

Jacob’s body tensed at the unexpected contact. “Let go,” he commanded quietly.

Lawrence immediately released his hold, but his head drooped in unmistakable defeat.

Jacob stepped backward swiftly, creating deliberate space between them. Lawrence maintained his downward gaze, trapped in silence. In this fragile moment, any words seemed perilous. Worse still, one misstep might result in Jacob ejecting him without hesitation.

“If you’re going to sleep, use the guest room,” Jacob instructed, his tone clinically detached.

“Okay,” Lawrence replied softly, accepting the directive without resistance.

Jacob pressed his lips together once more but offered nothing further.

Only after returning to his room did he remember his original purpose—ensuring Lawrence didn’t go hungry. That brief, unexpected embrace had completely derailed his intentions.

Meanwhile, Lawrence had retreated to the guest room, foregoing dinner entirely.

Stretched across unfamiliar sheets, his stomach protested loudly against its emptiness.

Yet hunger was meant to pale beside his emotional starvation in his act.

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