Jonathan’s voice, calm as ever, was nearly drowned out by the sound of the wind rushing past the car.
Niamh turned to look at him, wondering if she’d misheard.
Jonathan kept his eyes on the road. His strikingly handsome face was unreadable, as tranquil and still as a sea untouched by wind.
Niamh opened her mouth, drawing in a breath of fresh air, but in the end, she didn’t ask anything.
Jonathan pulled the car up to Jade Peak Pavilion.
Given the state she was in, Niamh couldn’t bring herself to care about appearances. She didn’t want to be here–she’d avoided this place for so long–but now that she was, at least she could get cleaned up.
If she remembered right, Marina and Jonathan had been living together.
In this very house that had been meant for her and Jonathan.
Sure enough, as soon as the door swung open, she saw that splash of pink that didn’t belong.
It was an aggressively bright pink.
Jonathan noticed the distaste flicker in Niamh’s eyes, but he didn’t say a word. He just handed her a pink nightgown.
It wasn’t one of hers.
She guessed Marina hadn’t wanted to see any trace of her left in this place.
“I’m not wearing that,” Niamh refused, her tone flat.
“It’s new. I bought it today.”
“I still don’t want to wear it.”
“Fine,” Jonathan shot back, “then you can walk out naked.”
He snatched the pink nightgown away.
Niamh disappeared into the bathroom, only to find two bathrobes hanging there, one clearly Jonathan’s, the other obviously Marina’s.
1/3
11:57
Chapter 115
Her stomach churned, a sick lurch worse than the smell of rotten eggs. The longer she stayed, the more nauseous she felt.
She showered as fast as she could, but when she was done, she realized she had nothing to wear.
“Jonathan, are you out there?” she called,
No answer.
“Jonathan?” Her voice trembled.
Cautiously, she cracked open the door.
No one. The curtains were drawn, the room empty.
Relieved, Niamh stepped out, stark naked.
But her own clothes were gone; Jonathan must’ve thrown them out.
The divorce wasn’t even finalized, yet this place already felt so foreign that not a single piece of her remained.
While she was lost in thought, the sound of the door opening made her jump.
Jonathan walked in, holding new clothes, his eyes falling straight to her bare skin.
Niamh froze.
She started to turn away, but Jonathan’s hand clamped down on her shoulder.
He deliberately glanced down at her body, taking his time.
Niamh’s cheeks burned.
“Embarrassed? We’ve been married for years…”
“We’re about to be divorced, aren’t we?” she shot back, voice steely.
The teasing look in Jonathan’s eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden chill.
“So you let Daniel chase after you on purpose? Stir up a scandal so things would blow up?”
Niamh jerked free, her eyes blazing.
“Right, I got myself dragged through the tabloids and pelted with eggs–for the sake of divorcing you?”
She snatched the clothes from his hand and marched into the walk–in closet. When she emerged, she was finally decently dressed.
11:57
Chapter 118
This time, she’d twisted her hair up into a messy bun, which made the cut on her forehead impossible to miss.
She only noticed the wound when she caught her reflection in the mirror. It must have been from a rock someone threw earlier.
“Thanks for helping me back there…” she muttered. Whatever else had happened, at least Jonathan had shown up when she needed him. She offered a strained thank you and turned to leave.
She was at the door when Jonathan spoke up:
“You don’t want the divorce papers anymore?”
Niamh looked back, surprised.
Jonathan shrugged, one hand in his pocket, grinning with a trace of irony.
“Niamh, after all the trouble you’ve gone through lately, isn’t this what you wanted? And now you’re not even interested?”
He tossed her three copies of the divorce agreement.
“I’ve already signed. Just waiting on you.”
11:57
