“Sorry!”
Niamh frowned, her expression darkening.
“Why are you apologizing to me?”
“Because… because…”
“Because you already knew Jonathan and Marina were having dinner here.”
“Busted, huh?”
Niamh nodded, folding her arms across her chest.
“So what was the point of bringing me here? Did you want me to see Jonathan and your beloved Marina playing happy couple, hoping I’d finally give up?”
“That’s not it. Not at all.”
Preston Winslow waved his hands quickly, surprised at just how badly Niamh had misunderstood.
“I just wanted you to see with your own eyes—Jonathan really isn’t worth your love.”
As soon as Preston said it, he seemed startled by his own words. Niamh, too, looked taken aback.
But the words were out, and there was no taking them back now. Preston had no intention of trying.
Niamh studied his face for a moment, searching for a lie, but Preston didn’t look like he was deceiving her.
“You don’t need to go to all this trouble anymore. I don’t love Jonathan—haven’t for a while.”
As she said it, a bitter taste crept into Niamh’s mouth.
“Really?” Preston sounded skeptical.
“Really.”
“So… that means the rumor’s true? You really sold the ten percent of Thomas Group shares Jonathan was going to give you after the divorce to Michael?”
Niamh’s eyes widened in surprise, but then she thought about it—Michael or Marina could easily have let that slip. It made sense Preston would have heard.
Besides, Preston said she “sold” them, but she’d actually written them off as a gift, no strings attached. Clearly, Preston was just repeating the gossip.
“Yeah,” Niamh admitted without hesitation.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: His Housewife Had Secret Identities