Chapter 549 Nicole, Have You Ever Regretted?
At the hospital entrance, Jacob called Anya, but her responses were evasive and stammering. Sensing she'd gone to see Nicole, he headed downstairs to his car and instructed the driver to Nicole's apartment—he knew she'd return there for her afternoon painting sessions.
Back in the examination room, Taylor instructed a young nurse to tidy up while she slipped her hands into her lab coat pockets and headed toward the inpatient building. She'd treated a critically ill child a few days ago and wanted to check on the patient's progress.
The pediatric ward buzzed with the familiar symphony of worry—anxious parents, frightened children, and the sharp antiseptic smell that clung to every surface. Illness had a way of casting shadows over everything, and the faces that passed by wore expressions of quiet desperation.
"Dr. Montague," came the respectful greetings from doctors and nurses as Taylor made her rounds. She acknowledged each with a polite nod and gentle smile.
After checking on her young patient—whose condition was stable—Taylor began writing additional instructions for the nursing staff, adding an imported protein supplement to the IV regimen. The young nurse beside her shifted uncomfortably.
"Is there a problem?" Taylor asked, still writing.
The nurse leaned closer, lowering her voice. "The little girl's family is struggling financially. Her father's been out of work since breaking his leg on a construction site, and her mother doesn't have steady employment. The protein supplement costs $2,000 per dose—it might be too much for them to handle."
Taylor paused, her pen hovering over the prescription pad. For a moment, she considered crossing out the line, but ultimately handed the completed order to the nurse. "Let's proceed with the treatment. Give me her room number—I'll prepay some medical expenses. And if there's a VIP single room available, move her there. It'll be easier for her mother to care for both her husband and daughter."
The young nurse's eyes filled with admiration. "You're so kind, Dr. Montague."
Taylor smiled softly, took the room number, and headed to the billing window. Using her administrative privileges, she prepaid $300,000 toward the child's medical expenses while the nurse arranged for the room transfer.
The grateful mother insisted on thanking Taylor personally, and Taylor found herself genuinely looking forward to the visit. The little girl had a certain charm—sweet and endearing in that way that made you want to protect her. It struck Taylor that after years of marriage, she and Samuel still hadn't had children. Someone was always too busy, too consumed with work.
Lost in thought, Taylor approached room 820, but froze when the door across the hall opened. Her husband Samuel emerged alongside his first love, and Taylor's heart clenched at the sight.
The woman leaned against Samuel's shoulder, her delicate features etched with vulnerability. "Samuel, I don't know what I would have done without you. When Thalassa Marek greeted you earlier, my heart nearly broke. If her father were still alive, I wouldn't have to burden you like this or interfere with your marriage to Dr. Montague."
"Don't say that—it's no trouble at all," Samuel replied, his voice tender with compassion. "Besides, Taylor's always busy with work. She's rarely home anyway."
The woman's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Samuel, if only we had—"
Her words died abruptly when she spotted Taylor standing in the doorway across the hall. Samuel followed her gaze, and the air grew thick with tension.
After a long, uncomfortable silence, Taylor spoke first. "You're absolutely right, Samuel. I am busy with work, so I should thank Zenobia Carthage for keeping you company and alleviating your loneliness."
Zenobia's face crumpled with distress. "Dr. Montague, you've misunderstood. It's because of Thalassa's condition that—"
"Is the child Samuel's?" Taylor cut her off with surgical precision.
Zenobia went pale, and Samuel frowned with disapproval. "Taylor, there's no need to be so harsh. As a doctor, you should understand the situation."
Taylor's expression remained impassive, her hands buried deep in her lab coat pockets. "When it comes to the three of us, I'm Samuel's wife first—not a doctor. Asking me to hide behind professional ethics and suppress my real feelings is just manipulative."
Samuel's displeasure was evident, but before he could respond, a nurse rushed over. "Dr. Montague, we have an emergency with one of your patients."
Taylor immediately followed the nurse, leaving Samuel and Zenobia alone in the hallway.
Zenobia ventured tentatively, "Since Dr. Montague is here at the hospital, perhaps you could stay with Thalassa for a while? When Dr. Montague finishes with her emergency, you could explain everything to her. I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding."
Samuel checked his watch and shook his head. "I have matters to attend to at the office. I need to go."
"Samuel, please—" Zenobia called after him, but he was already walking away.
At a corner café, Nicole stirred her coffee absently, her voice carrying a slight rasp. "Anya, I never expected you to ask me to meet like this."
Across from her, Anya sat in her crisp business attire, studying Nicole with complex emotions. The girl from her memories had transformed—no longer naive but mature and rational, radiating an intellectual elegance while retaining her natural beauty. Anya managed a bitter smile. "I never imagined that after all these years, you'd be married and so... changed."
"People evolve," Nicole replied quietly. "You want to talk about Jacob, don't you?"
Anya didn't deny it. "This morning's meeting between Mr. Windsor and Mr. Voss didn't go well. After Mr. Voss left, Mr. Windsor went straight to the hospital. These past few years have been incredibly stressful for him—he's been overworking himself, especially during the first two years after you left. He needed sleeping pills just to rest, and once he drank so much at a business dinner that he developed a perforated ulcer. But whenever he had time, he'd travel to Vesper City, hoping you might have returned. Every trip left him more despondent than before."
Anya paused, her voice growing softer. "Just now, in the car on the way to the hospital, Mr. Windsor was talking to himself. He wondered if you left because you didn't know he loved you, if you stayed away because you didn't know he loved you, if you married someone else because you didn't know he loved you."
Nicole felt her composure cracking like ice in spring. The past rushed over her like a tide, leaving her breathless and overwhelmed.
Her hand trembled slightly as she gripped her coffee cup, and it took several moments before she could speak. "Those are all things from the past. I have a husband now, and he has a fiancée. I can see they care deeply for each other."
"How do you know we care deeply for each other?" The familiar voice made Nicole's head snap up.
Jacob stood there, and Anya quietly excused herself, leaving the former lovers alone in their bubble of tense silence.
Jacob remained standing, his blue eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. There was something unreadable in their depths, something that spoke of years of unspoken pain.
Finally, he asked in a voice barely above a whisper, "Do you ever regret it? Leaving me, disappearing without a word? Have you ever, even for a moment, thought about me?"
Nicole sat frozen, gazing up into those dark eyes that had once been her entire world. Her lips parted slightly—she had regretted it, countless times. How could she not have thought about him? But these truths felt too dangerous to voice now, not when she was married and he was engaged. She forced a serene smile. "Jacob—"
"Don't," he interrupted with a bitter laugh. "You're going to tell me you're married now. But Nicole, that's not what I asked you."
His pride wouldn't allow him to grovel, wouldn't let him beg before Theron's wife. He turned and walked away, his shoulders rigid with barely contained emotion.
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