“But you have a job, too. Staying overnight to look after her is exhausting, and if you don’t sleep well, how are you supposed to go to work the next day?” Jonathan’s voice was as calm and aloof as ever, but everyone could hear the concern he had for Marina.
“See, Marina? Even if you want to, Jonathan can’t bear to let you do it,” Lucy chimed in, fanning the flames. The relatives began showering Marina with praise, making her cheeks flush a deep red.
The mood in the hospital room was warm and harmonious–until Jonathan’s tall figure loomed in front of Niamh.
The chatter died instantly. Every pair of eyes landed on Jonathan and Niamh.
Marina, in the middle of peeling an apple, tightened her grip on the paring knife.
She knew Jonathan was just worried about her, but she genuinely wanted to stay and help. This was the perfect chance to prove herself, and she wasn’t about to let it slip by.
Niamh tilted her head up, meeting Jonathan’s eyes–eyes as cold and clear as tequila over ice.
“You’re staying tonight.”
It wasn’t a question or a suggestion. Jonathan spoke in a tone that brooked no argument.
Niamh’s fist clenched at her side.
“I have a job, too. I have to go in tomorrow.”
“Then quit.”
Niamh stared at him, shock and disbelief widening her eyes. Jonathan just shrugged and gave a careless smile.
“Don’t tell me you actually think your job is as important as Marina’s?”
Most of the Thomas relatives didn’t even know Niamh was a jewelry designer at FY, just like Marina. The gossip columns had mentioned it, but all anyone cared about were those ambiguous photos of Niamh and Julian.
Niamh wanted to remind Jonathan that she and Marina worked at the same company, in the exact same position.
1/3
20:03
But the words caught in her throat.
Of course Jonathan knew.
What he really meant was, even if she and Marina did identical work, only Marina’s job mattered,
Marina had a real career; Niamh’s job could be tossed aside at a whim.
A dull ache spread through Niamh’s chest.
She hadn’t even refused to help, not really. After all, it was her responsibility to look after Marigold during her hospital stay. If Jonathan and the Thomases weren’t so blatantly playing favorites, she probably would have agreed.
“I don’t have time for this. You people have enough money–hire a nurse.”
With that, Niamh turned on her heel and strode–out.
Marigold’s voice echoed down the hall, sharp and furious: “Did you hear that? Is that even human? The Thomas family really is cursed, having married such a heartless witch!”
Niamh didn’t look back, walking faster and faster, unaware that Jonathan was already following her.
He was almost close enough to grab her arm when he suddenly stopped dead in
his tracks.
His grandfather had arrived.
Clifford needed only to give him a look, and Jonathan understood at once what it
meant.
Niamh hadn’t expected Clifford to show up. Still, with Marigold in the hospital, it was only proper for the patriarch to pay a visit.
She and Clifford sat together on a bench outside the hospital. Even with his silver hair, Clifford was always impeccably dressed in a suit, radiating an authority that even Jonathan couldn’t match.
Niamh was sure Clifford had seen the tabloid frenzy about her and Julian. He probably knew she’d asked for a divorce and that Marigold’s fainting spell was the result.
She clasped her hands tightly in her lap.
Clifford had heart problems; the last thing she wanted was to upset him. So she
2/3
20:03
simply said she and Jonathan had argued–she never expected things to spiral so
far.
Clifford listened to her vague explanation and sighed. “Don’t be so impulsive,
Niamh. Young people always are.”
“You’re right, Grandpa…”
She could feel his disappointment.
“Every couple fights. It’s just part of figuring each other out. I know it’s not easy, taking care of Jonathan: He’s ambitious, always working, and he might neglect you sometimes. Try to be patient with him…”
