My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 124

“Quennel.”

For some reason, the sound of his voice made her nose sting and her eyes well up with tears.

“It was Lionel, wasn’t it?” Quennel asked gently. “Tell me where you are, and I’ll come get you. It’s too late for you to be out alone. I’m worried.”

Hannah stepped out from under the restaurant’s awning and looked up at the bright moon, struggling to keep her tears from falling.

“Yeah,” she managed to say. “He got a call and had to leave for an emergency.”

She fought to keep her voice steady, but it trembled despite her best efforts.

“Whose call? Sandra’s?”

Hannah didn’t answer. She pulled the phone away from her ear and took a deep, shaky breath, not wanting him to hear how broken she felt. Composing herself, she brought the phone back and forced a smile into her voice. “Yeah, but it’s fine. I’m used to it. You don’t need to come get me, Quennel. I drove here. I’m about to head home now.”

“Hire a driver, and tell them to go slow. Let me know when you’re home, okay?”

“I will.”

After hanging up, Hannah let out a long sigh and began walking. She had come in Lionel’s car, which meant she had to either take a taxi or the subway. But she didn’t feel like doing either. She decided to walk for a bit, to clear her head before bringing her frustration home.

Messages from friends poured in, offering comfort and telling her to forget the jerk. There were plenty of other men in the world; she didn’t need to get hung up on one bad apple.

Reading their messages, she started to smile, and her mood slowly began to lift.

—

The next morning, Hannah woke up with a dull ache in her forehead. The wound hadn’t even fully healed, and she’d gone and drunk on it.

“What proof do you have? Xenia already confessed that she acted alone! She was fired because she spread rumors about you and Sandra, and she rammed your car out of anger. Why are you trying to frame Sandra for what she did?”

Hannah set down her brush and turned to face him, a genuine laugh escaping her lips. The word “fool” was practically written across his handsome face.

“What are you laughing at?” he demanded.

Just as Hannah was about to reply, she caught a glimpse of a pair of shoes at the edge of the doorway.

She recognized them. They were Zack’s.

“Since you already brought him here, why bother asking me all these questions?” she said coolly. “Why don’t we just have a little chat, face to face?”

Lionel’s brow tightened. He hadn’t expected her to be so sharp.