Chapter 201
Jonathan Thomas’s voice was always measured and neutral, making it impossible for Niamh Rivers to read his emotions.
“Of course not,” she replied.
After all, their divorce was only days away; she wasn’t about to fool herself with wishful thinking.
The deep blue Bentley rolled into a roadside service area, and only then did Niamh realize Jonathan intended for them to spend the night here.
“You don’t have
to put yourself through this, you know,” she remarked.
Jonathan turned toward her, a flicker of confusion softening his otherwise cold
gaze.
Niamh hurried to explain. “I just mean… This place can’t be comfortable for you. You don’t have to force yourself to stay with me in a motel like this.”
“And where should I stay, then?” Jonathan’s tone was mild.
Given everything she knew about him, the thought of Jonathan lowering himself to a shabby roadside inn seemed almost absurd.
“A five–star hotel?” she suggested.
To her surprise, Jonathan gave a quiet laugh.
The sky outside had turned a somber gray, thick clouds hanging low, though the rain was finally letting up.
Before heading into the motel, Niamh grabbed an umbrella and popped open the trunk.
She didn’t notice Jonathan until he was suddenly right behind her, wordlessly taking the umbrella from her hands.
She turned to look at him.
He stood there in silence, holding the umbrella over her, letting his own shoulder get damp.
Something unfamiliar stirred in her chest. Niamh took a deep breath, drawing in the cool, rain–washed air.
“Thank you…” she murmured.
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“You’re welcome.”
The exchange was awkwardly polite, but Jonathan’s tone was unexpectedly gentle–just as it had been between them before she’d discovered those documents, when they’d still acted like courteous strangers under the same roof.
Niamh sighed quietly and bent down to check the uncut emerald stone resting in
the trunk.
“I want to bring it up to the room,” she said, glancing at Jonathan as if seeking his approval.
“Why?” Jonathan asked.
“It’s valuable. I’m worried it might get stolen if I leave it here.”
Jonathan looked down and let out a short, amused breath.
“You think a cheap motel is safer than my car?”
Niamh opened her mouth, then closed it, realizing how silly her worry sounded.
“Besides, Jonathan continued, “the board’s already decided to go with Marina’s design.”
Niamh’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“You’re disappointed?” he asked.
“A little…” she admitted, lowering her head, unable to hide her letdown.
As she closed the trunk, Jonathan noticed the unease still etched on her face.
“Still not ready to let it go?” he asked.
She hesitated, then forced a wry smile. “I have to. Since they’ve already chosen
Marina Thornton’s design…”
“Then you never should’ve wasted your time in the first place.”
His voice was calm, not mocking, but there was nothing comforting in it either. Niamh just gave a faint, defeated “yeah.”
They headed inside to check in. When the clerk asked if they wanted one room or two, Niamh answered “two,” but Jonathan said “one” at the same time.
He glanced at her, then told the front desk, “One room, please.”
“Would you prefer a king or two twins?” the clerk asked.
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Niamh was about to say, “Two beds, but Jonathan beat her to it again.
“King bed,”
She shot him a look, but Jonathan didn’t meet her eyes.
And so, these two soon–to–be exes ended up sharing a single bed in a cramped roadside motel.
Niamh kept her guard up, but she didn’t really think Jonathan would try anything in a place like this.
She was right. After showering, Jonathan climbed into bed and lay there, perfectly still.
Niamh slipped in on the other side.
In the small, stuffy room, silence pressed in around them.
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