My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 142

Hannah drove, feigning a calm she didn't feel, her eyes occasionally flicking to the rearview mirror to check on the car tailing them.

Anna, completely oblivious, chattered away, jumping from one topic to the next.

It wasn't until they reached Anna's place and Hannah had watched her go safely upstairs that she drove on. Her speed gradually decreased until she finally pulled over to the side of the road.

The car behind her stopped as well.

The two vehicles sat there, one behind the other, neither driver getting out.

After a minute that felt like an eternity, Lionel couldn't stand it anymore. He got out and strode to her window.

"It's late. Why aren't you home? What are you doing wandering the streets?" he demanded, knocking sharply on the glass, his deep-set eyes fixed on her.

Hannah leaned back against her seat, took a deep breath, and slowly lowered the window, glancing at the man standing outside.

"What is it?"

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Her nonchalant attitude grated on him. He couldn't stand seeing her like this; she was never like this before. When he’d gotten home from work, she wasn't there, waiting on the sofa for him. There was no dinner, none of his favorite dishes prepared in advance. In that moment, the familiar house had felt utterly foreign, leaving an empty, aching void in his chest.

Hannah picked up her phone and checked the time. Not even eleven.

She put it down and turned to face him. "You're being very strange today, beating around the bush with everything." It had to be something to do with Sandra. He was just taking it out on her.

"Go home," he said, his voice cold.

"Lionel, you're a man who's come home less than ten times in three years of marriage. What right do you have to order me home now? Whatever you're on, don't take it out on me. And stay away from my colleagues. I don't want anyone knowing I have anything to do with you."

With that, Hannah started to raise the window, done with the conversation.

The nerve of him, asking a question like that. He was the one who had been terrified of their relationship becoming public.

She had been such a fool. A man who wasn't even willing to publicly acknowledge her as his wife, and she had still married him without a second thought. No wedding, no ring, no photos, just a secret marriage she had once been proud of. She used to think that as long as she married the man she loved, nothing else mattered.

Now, she realized marrying him was the biggest problem of all.

They arrived home one after the other.

Cora, the housekeeper, heard the door open and rushed over excitedly. "Sir…"

Her face fell when she saw Hannah walk in first. She shot Hannah a disgusted look before turning her attention to Lionel, who was right behind her.

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