“You really should go to the hospital.”
“The doctors probably wouldn’t do as good a job as you.”
Jonathan’s tone was calm, almost dismissive.
Niamh gave a disbelieving laugh. “Come on, that can’t be true…”
Once she finished bandaging his wound, she stood up. Jonathan remained seated on the couch, and a strange, palpable awkwardness settled between them.
Unable to help herself, Niamh let her gaze wander around Jonathan’s suite. For such a spacious room, there wasn’t much luggage—just enough for one person.
“Marina doesn’t stay with me,” Jonathan said suddenly.
Niamh’s heart skipped. Had she been that obvious?
Seeing the flicker in her eyes, Jonathan gave a faint, careless smile. “Niamh, after the divorce, will you miss me?”
It felt like someone had reached right in and squeezed her heart.
“…No.”
“You hesitated.”
His offhand comment was enough to set her off.
She spun to face him, her voice sharp and unwavering. “Jonathan, if you love Marina, then love her and stop dragging me back into this. If I really wanted to hold onto you, I wouldn’t be rushing through this divorce. Once it’s over, I’ll finally be free, and honestly, I can’t wait to put as much distance between us as possible!”
Jonathan hadn’t expected her outburst. He simply replied, “Alright.”
The penthouse fell utterly silent.
Niamh took a deep breath. She didn’t even know what she was angry about. Maybe it was because Jonathan always seemed so composed and unbothered, while she was the one left floundering and exposed.
All because Jonathan had been her first love—someone she had once adored—while to him, she was just another face, never someone he cared for, never someone he remembered.
She had always been destined to lose in this relationship.
“You really ought to get yourself checked out. I’m leaving.”
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