Dear Wife, I Hate You (by Josephine Mbanefo) novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Kilian’s Pov

After going through files for hours and signing off documents, my head was pounding. The board meeting, the rival company’s threats, the endless calls–everything was just noise. I didn’t want to hear anyone’s voice again. I just wanted peace. Silence. A cold glass of whiskey and sleep. That was all I needed.

As I drove home, my thoughts drifted to her. Lilith.

The girl who asked me a question this morning that got stuck in my mind all day.

Do you hate me that much?

Who does she think she is to ask me that? Who gave her the right to question anything? This is my house. My rules. She’s only here because she has to be.

I parked and stepped out of the car. My legs moved on their own. I didn’t want to see anyone, but for some reason. I went inside and found Rose in the hallway.

“Good evening, sir,” she said politely.

I don’t even know why I asked her. “Where is she?”

“Lilith is in the garden,” Rose answered.

I didn’t respond. Just nodded and started walking to the garden. My heart wasn’t racing. My body wasn’t tense. But my head… it was already tired, and I knew seeing her would only make it worse.

So she decided to show her true colors, huh?

That’s what I thought as I turned the corner.

And there she was.

Talking. Smiling. With Zoey of all people. And worse, she was painting. With real brushes. On a canvas. On

my property.

I didn’t even stop to think.

“Who asked you to paint here?” I snapped. “Why the hell did you bring paint into my house?”

She stood up immediately. “I’m so sorry. It was your brother that told me to do it.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “My brother told you to paint and you went ahead after I specifically told you not

Before she could answer, I heard Nolan’s voice from behind.

“Killian, I was the one that asked her to paint.”

I clenched my jaw. My fists tightened by my side. I turned slightly, ready to speak, but he cut in.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Nolan said firmly. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t say anything. I just followed him out of the garden.

We didn’t speak again until we reached the top of the stairs and entered my room. Nolan shut the door behind us and turned around with that look on his face–the one he wears when he’s about to say something I

won’t like.

“Why the hell are you treating your wife like that?”

1 stared at Nolan, stunned. His words echoed in my head.

I blinked, then scoffed. “Nolan, why are you asking me such a question?”

He folded his arms across his chest, his expression calm but sharp. “You know why I’m asking you. I see how you treat her. How you disrespect her. I know what she did, Killian, but you remember she didn’t do it purposely.”

I clenched my jaw. My chest tightened with that familiar sting–the one I carried every day like a chain around my neck. “You don’t have to remind me,” I said coldly. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” he asked. “Because it doesn’t look like it. Why is she not allowed to be happy, huh? Why are you punishing her for something that broke her just as much as it broke you?”

“Why is she trying to be happy,” I snapped, “when she made me who I am today? When she’s the reason I don’t even recognize myself anymore?”

Nolan’s voice softened, but it didn’t lose its weight. “You don’t have to blame her anymore. Even if you don’t love her or want to acknowledge her as your wife, she still is your wife. And she deserves that respect.”

I gave a cold laugh. “It’s quite funny, hearing all this from you, Nolan. My brother–lecturing me about respect and love. Have you taken a good look at your own relationship? You and Zoey? Don’t act like you’re perfect.”

His brows furrowed, but his voice remained firm. “This isn’t about me and Zoey. This is about you. Stop deflecting and face what you’re doing.”

“Coming from you?” I scoffed. “Stop the joke.”

Silence hung in the air. Heavy. Tense.

Then I muttered, “By the way, you have all the money in the world. You’re renovating your house, aren’t you? You have buildings in other states, cities. Why not stay in one of them?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you trying to chase me away?”

I shrugged. “No. I’m just… concerned. That’s all.”

He took a step forward. “I want to spend time with my brother. Or do you have a problem with that, brother?

If you don’t want to see me, you won’t even see me for a month.”

I turned away, the weight in my chest growing heavier. “Just go away, Nolan. I just want to rest. Please. Just go.”

There was a pause. Then his voice came quieter this time. “Just remember what I said. Try to respect her. It doesn’t hurt to respect someone.”

I didn’t respond. I just nodded once.

He opened the door and walked out.

The door clicked shut behind Nolan, and the silence hit me harder than anything. I stood there for a few moments, rooted in place, my mind spiraling. Slowly, I sank onto the edge of the bed. My hands trembled as they ran through my hair, and I felt the frustration building–tight, suffocating.

Fuck.

1 squeezed my scalp, my nails digging into my skin, wanting to tear something, anything, out. The urge to scream felt like a pressure, pushing against my chest, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. My throat closed. So 1 grabbed my phone, desperate for something to hold onto. Anything.

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