Dear Wife, I Hate You (by Josephine Mbanefo) novel Chapter 27

Lilith’s Pov

As soon as I stepped out of Nolan’s house, a driver stood quietly at the side, waiting.

No questions. No comments.

Just a silent nod before he opened the car door for me.

I slipped inside and watched as the streetlights stretched across the windows in gold streaks.

I didn’t say a word.

Not on the ride.

Not when I stepped out.

Not even when I stood in front of our–his–house.

The familiar walls wrapped around me the second I walked in, and yet they didn’t feel familiar at all. Maybe because everything inside this house held a trace of Killian.

Even the air felt heavier around his name.

As I walked up the stairs, my mind wandered to earlier.

To the way he rejected my painting like it was nothing. Like I was nothing.

And then to the laughter I shared with Nolan.

I hated how light it made me feel.

How easy.

How free.

Killian and Nolan… they were both masters of words when they chose to be. But Nolan–Nolan carried softness in his silence. And Killian… he carried a war.

Was he home? I didn’t know.

But instead of looking for him, I chose peace. My room. My solitude. My skin, aching to be washed of everything that clung to it.

The shower was hot, almost burning.

It felt good.

After dressing in a silky nightwear, I made my way to Killian’s room. Something pulled me there–I don’t know what. Habit, maybe. Hope, maybe worse.

I knocked quietly and turned the knob and when I opened the door, he was there.

Back resting against the headboard.

Eyes fixed on the screen. Fingers typing like I didn’t exist.

“Good evening, husband,” I said, my voice laced with something playful, maybe desperate. “Missed me?”

He said nothing.

No glance.

No smirk.

No irritation.

Just nothing.

I walked to the bed, laid at the far edge like I was just a guest in a stranger’s home, and pulled out my phone. I scrolled through business inspirations, branding ideas–trying to remind myself who I was before all this.

But I wasn’t comfortable.

My skin felt like it didn’t belong.

My thoughts–caged.

Still, if I wanted my plan to work, I had to learn to be comfortable in discomfort. To survive the ache. To master it.

I dropped my phone gently, stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds.

“Goodnight, Killian.”

He didn’t respond.

Again.

It shouldn’t have hurt.

But it did.

God, it did.

I turned away, pressing my cheek to the cold pillow, trying not to think too much.

Eventually, the thoughts faded.

And sleep took me.

**

Morning came faster than I wanted.

The sky still wore its soft gray and the sun hadn’t stretched fully. I woke up before him. I always did. Maybe I always would.

Quietly, I moved around, pulled out his clothes for the day, set them neatly like I always did. Like a loyal wife

-like a shadow.

Then I slipped out and returned to my room.

Another shower. Another attempt at normalcy.

I was almost done dressing when I heard a knock.

Three soft taps.

“Come in,” I called.

The door creaked open and it was Zoey.

As soon as Zoey stepped into the room, I turned toward her with a soft smile.

“Hey, girl. What’s up?”

She didn’t smile back. Her eyes were wide, her fingers twitching by her sides.

“I’m in deep trouble,” she blurted out. “He’s asking for ransom, Lilith. And not just any amount–it’s insane. This is the first time he’s ever asked for this much. I–God–we really need to do something. Fast.”

She kept going. Talking and talking, her words spiraling faster than my mind could keep up.

“Zoey,” I said, stepping closer, reaching for her arms. “Calm down. Breathe, okay? We’ll figure it out. Just… how are we going to do this?”

She paused. Swallowed hard. Then nodded.

“Are you sure you still want to do the plan?” she asked in a whisper. “Because if yes… we either do it tonight or tomorrow. But if it’s tonight, we need to move now. You’ll text him, tell him you saw him somewhere—I’ll tell you what exactly to say–then you arrange the meet–up. I’ll guide you through it all.”

I could see the panic behind her eyes.

I took a breath. “Yes. I’m in. You’re my friend, Zoey. I’m going to help you.”

Her shoulders dropped as she exhaled, then suddenly she pulled me into a hug. Tight. Like she needed to hold onto something that felt real.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

She pulled back and leaned closer, her voice now low, secretive.

“Okay, listen. Here’s what’s going on…”

She explained everything. Every detail, every dark thread, every piece of the trap we were about to weave. Her voice never rose above a whisper, as if the walls had ears–and maybe they did.

When she finished, she took out her phone, transferred the guy’s number to mine. Then, without waiting for hesitation to slip in, she typed the message herself, pretending to be me.

Her fingers moved fast–flirty, casual, a little bold.

“He’s the type that falls quick,” Zoey muttered, her eyes scanning the screen. “Wants to fuck and dump. He’ll bite this bait easy.”

And sure enough, within minutes, he responded. Hook, line, and sinker.

“All done,” Zoey said with a smirk. “You’re meeting him. Tonight.”

My eyes widened. “Tonight? I thought you said tomorrow.”

“He’s eager. It’s either tonight or not at all,” she replied quickly. “We can’t waste this chance.”

I took a deep breath, nodded once.

“Okay. We do it tonight. I’m with you.”

“But,” I added, glancing over my shoulder as a wave of paranoia crawled up my spine, “we make sure Lilian and Nolan have no idea where we’re going.”

“They won’t,” she said softly with a bit of assurance in her voice.

I nodded because I trusted her

“Now we just have to go get the best sleeping medicine, do you want to come with me or should I go get it alone??” she asked me.

“We’re in this together Zoey, I’ll come with you.”