His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 120

Niamh had just settled into bed, hoping to catch up on some much-needed sleep, when a message from Jonathan lit up her phone:

Mind your own business. Starting tomorrow, you and I are nothing to each other.

The sharp, icy words jolted her awake, banishing all traces of drowsiness. She reached up and touched the bandage on her forehead.

Strange. She'd covered the cut, but it somehow hurt more than before.

The Thomas Group.

CEO's office.

Jonathan barely registered Prescott's report until he noticed Marina holding his phone.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing, just some spam text. I deleted it for you," Marina replied, handing the phone back.

Jonathan didn't bother to check, simply placing it back on his desk.

Niamh had thought she'd sleep soundly, but her night was plagued by nightmares. She woke up several times, and by morning her head throbbed as if it might split open.

She peeled off the bandage; the wound had scabbed over but still ached.

After freshening up with a touch of subtle makeup, she slipped on a tailored suit—something formal for the occasion.

Today was the day she and Jonathan would sign the divorce papers at city hall.

She felt even more solemn than when she'd gone to register their marriage.

Once she signed those papers, a ten-year love story would finally end.

Niamh unlocked the private photo album on her phone.

That old picture was still there.

She should delete it.

She needed to delete it.

After several moments of hesitation, she pressed delete.

Then, just as quickly, she canceled it.

After the divorce, she told herself. She'd do it then.

She could admit it—she was never good at letting go.

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