The Forbidden Throb Chapter 161

Nicholas's POV:

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

My entire body had gone numb, like someone had injected ice water directly into my veins.

All the righteous indignation I'd felt just moments ago—the anger, the sense of betrayal, the wounded pride—it had evaporated completely. Burned away by the truth of what Daniel had just told me.

I thought of myself at six. Playing in the garden while Mom watched, laughing when I showed her the frogs I'd caught, feeling her hands smooth my hair when I scraped my knee.

After all of ot, Daniel was still being my older brother. Still cleaning up my messes. Still looking out for me.

*Everything I have, I earned myself. Through my own work. My own effort.*

The words took on a different meaning now. Not a rebuke, but a simple statement of fact. Daniel hadn't been given anything. Not love, not comfort, not even basic maternal acknowledgment. Everything he'd become, he'd built from nothing.

While I'd been handed the world on a silver platter and complained it wasn't shiny enough.

"I—" My voice came out strangled. I swallowed hard, tried again. "Does... does the family know? About you and Emma?"

Daniel's gaze lifted slightly, his expression carrying a certain detachment. "I told them."

"Grandfather accepted it. As for Mother's attitude—" He paused, and something flickered across his face, too quick to read. "That has nothing to do with me."

The casual dismissal in his tone made my chest tighten.

My brain felt like it had been thrown into a blender. I tried to process what he was saying, to line up the pieces in some kind of logical order, but they kept slipping away from me.

"So I'm..." I swallowed hard, my eyes widening as the realization hit. "The last one to know?"

My ex-girlfriend had married my own brother, and this bombshell of news was only reaching me now?

"I chose not to tell you until after your graduation," Daniel said quietly, cutting off my question with an answer that somehow made it worse. "You needed to focus on completing your degree. I didn't want you to make any impulsive decisions that might jeopardize your academic standing."

*Protection.* He called it protection.

Like I was some fragile thing that needed to be shielded from reality. Like I couldn't be trusted to handle the truth without self-destructing.

The worst part was—he was probably right.

If he'd told me a month ago, when I was stressed about finals and networking events, I would have lost it completely.

Again.

The sound of footsteps on the wooden platform made me look up. A young waiter approached our booth, carrying an elegant shopping bag embossed with the country club's logo. He bowed slightly toward Daniel.

"Mr. Prescott, here are the dishes you ordered."

"That's fine, thank you." Daniel's voice had shifted, becoming warmer, more approachable. "Just set them on the table."

Daniel's attention shifted to Emma. I watched him notice her untouched lobster roll, the way she'd only picked at her Caesar salad.

"You said your appetite wasn't good earlier," he said gently, reaching across the table to close the takeout container with those long, elegant surgeon's fingers. "Take this home. You can eat it later tonight when you feel like it."

The tenderness in his voice made my chest ache.

He stood, moving around the table to where Emma sat. I watched—couldn't look away—as he helped her into the camel-colored cashmere cardigan that had been draped over her chair. His movements were practiced, intimate. Like he'd done this a thousand times before.

"Do you need your scarf?" His voice was low, meant only for her. "It's windy outside."

Emma shook her head, but Daniel was already reaching for the soft gray cashmere scarf, tucking it gently into her arms.

I'd never taken care of Emma like that. Never paid attention to whether she was cold or hungry or uncomfortable. I'd just... assumed she was fine. That she'd speak up if she needed something.

But watching Daniel now, I realized how much I'd missed.

---

I sat there long after they left, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The winter sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows felt too bright, too cheerful for the hollowness expanding in my chest.

The sound of footsteps made me look up.

"Nicholas?"

Sophia.

My baby sister stood there in her riding clothes, her bright green eyes wide with something that looked uncomfortably like pity.

"How long have you been standing there?" My voice came out harsher than I intended.

"Long enough." She walked toward me, her expression unreadable.

When she reached the table, she slid into the chair Emma had vacated, looking up at me with those too-perceptive eyes.

I sank back into my seat, suddenly too exhausted to stand.

"Quite the show," I said bitterly, trying for sarcasm and landing somewhere closer to pathetic. "Enjoying yourself?"

Sophia didn't rise to the bait. She just sat there, studying me with that quiet intensity.

The silence stretched between us. I waited for her to say something to break the awful tension.

Finally, she spoke. "Daniel's pretty pathetic, isn't he?"

I stared at her, completely blindsided.

Of all the things I'd expected—concern, sympathy on my behalf—that wasn't even remotely on the list.

"And what about me—" I started, but she cut me off.

"And you?" Her green eyes hardened. "You're pathetic too. But in a completely different way."

"Excuse me?"

Sophia leaned back in her chair, and for the first time, I noticed the tension in her shoulders. The tightness around her mouth. "Mom had such high expectations for you. She sent you to the best private schools, gave you every resource, every opportunity. And what did you learn?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but she barreled on.

"You learned how to drive your Porsche too fast. How to get so drunk you end up in the emergency room. How to cheat on Emma." Her voice was cold now, clinical. "What else did you accomplish, Nicholas? "

I didn't answer. Couldn't.

She shook her head, disappoint clear on her face. "You know what the saddest part is?"

"You never even questioned it," Sophia said softly. "You just assumed it was all yours. That you deserved it."

"Mom's love. The family fortune. Grandfather's trust. Emma's devotion. And even Daniel's help. You took it all for granted. You never once thought you needed to earn it, to cherish it."

Each word was a knife, slicing through the carefully constructed image I had of myself.

"You're like a child," Sophia continued, her voice almost gentle now. "Always waiting for someone else to take care of you, to forgive you, to clean up your messes. "

I wanted to argue. Wanted to defend myself. But the words wouldn't come.

Because she was right.

"You know what I realized today?" Sophia's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "We're so lucky to have Daniel in this family. "

I stared at her, uncomprehending.

"Because if you were the heir?" She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "If you were the one Grandfather was grooming to take over? The Prescott family would be finished. So does Anderson."

Heat flooded my face. Being lectured by my baby sister was humiliating enough.

"That's enough—" I started, my voice rising.

"What?" Sophia's eyebrows shot up, her tone turning sharp. "That's all it takes? A few honest words and you can't handle it? "

I grabbed my jacket from the chair, my movements jerky and uncoordinated. My hands were shaking slightly, and I shoved them into my pockets before anyone could notice.

I walked away without a word. Past the other diners with their elegant lunches and quiet conversations.

I didn't look back.

I just kept walking, one foot in front of the other, until I reached the exit and stepped out into the cold air.