His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 331

“I told him… that you and I are together.”

Julian Neville’s eyes never left Niamh Rivers’. Their gazes remained locked, a silent current passing between them.

He’d expected—no, he’d been certain—that after he said those words, he’d see something flare in her expression. Panic, maybe. Or anger. Or at the very least, blame. After all, what he’d just told Jonathan Thomas would only deepen the misunderstanding between Jonathan and Niamh.

And Niamh… well, Niamh loved Jonathan, deeply.

But her reaction was nothing like he’d imagined.

She was calm. Almost eerily so.

It caught Julian off guard, this cold composure.

“Yeah. You’re not wrong,” she murmured, her voice distant, as chilly as the sea breeze drifting in through the open window.

She was, at this moment, sitting here with Julian. He hadn’t lied.

Really, Niamh’s body hadn’t fully recovered yet. Though she was awake, she was still so weak—her face pale as parchment, lips nearly colorless.

To Julian, she looked utterly spent, as if nothing in the world could hurt her anymore—because she no longer had the strength to care.

“Niamh…”

Julian’s frown deepened. He felt as if he’d swallowed a piece of dry bread, stuck halfway down his throat—unable to cough it up or swallow it down.

“Could you… close the window a bit?” Niamh asked quietly.

“Oh—yeah, of course…”

He hurried to do as she asked. He’d opened the windows earlier only to air out this seaside villa, which had stood empty for so long, hoping a little fresh air might drive out the mustiness, make Niamh feel less stifled by the damp.

She was bundled up under a thick blanket, but it didn’t seem to help. No matter how many layers she wrapped around herself, warmth wouldn’t come.

The chill had seeped into her bones long ago—when she’d been tied up in that abandoned warehouse, when Daniel Kingsley told her Jonathan had chosen Marina Thornton over her, when she’d thrown herself into the freezing, black sea, not knowing if she would live or die.

Those terrors and pains still haunted her body, lingering in every shiver. No blanket would ever be thick enough.

“Julian, do you really have no regrets?”

Her sudden question caught him off guard.

“What do you mean…?”

“Running away from your wedding.”

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