His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 4

When Niamh came to, the room was shrouded in darkness. A dull ache pulsed in her stomach and lower belly, making her wince. She wanted nothing more than to clean herself up in the bathroom, but as she eased herself out of bed, she caught the sound of Jonathan's voice drifting in from the living room—he was on the phone.

"Jonathan, your sweetheart's hammered. You'd better get over here, fast!"-

At moments like this, Niamh almost felt grateful that Preston Winslow was such a loudmouth.

Jonathan stood in the living room, tall and striking, his silhouette cutting through the dim light like a flash of lightning. The lamp beside him cast sharp shadows across his chiseled features, and his eyes were as dark and fathomless as midnight.

To Niamh's surprise, she noticed a cigarette smoldering between his fingers.

She couldn't remember ever seeing Jonathan smoke before—certainly never inside the house.

"Seriously, man, how long are you and your sweetheart going to keep up this cold war? She's come home now, isn't it time you made up?"

The quieter the night, the clearer Preston's voice rang out through the phone. Every word landed with painful clarity, making Niamh hold her breath.

"Preston," Jonathan said, his tone grim, gaze sharp as a hawk's. "I'm married."

It was like someone injected Niamh with a shot of adrenaline. Relief washed over her.

"So what if you're married? Divorce isn't illegal. Why stick around for that washed-up housewife who can't even take care of herself? She's nothing compared to your sweetheart."

"But I don't want a divorce."

"Why not?"

"Because I can't let her go."

Niamh's eyes stung with sudden tears; she nearly made a sound. Of all the lavish gifts Jonathan had ever given her, nothing had touched her as deeply as that simple sentence.

Three years of marriage—enough time to thaw even the iciest heart. And Niamh had never once believed she was lacking as a wife.

She washed, she cooked, she kept the house running smoothly—never once slacking off.

Even at night, she made sure Jonathan was satisfied.

All her efforts weren't for nothing. Jonathan's feelings for her ran deeper than she'd realized, and that phone call tonight was all the proof she needed.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify