My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 165

"You shut your mouth!" Cora had no idea what had happened, but she wasn't about to let this decrepit old man yell at Lionel.

She gave the man a hard shove. "You're just a miserable, broke old man who can't stand to see anyone successful, aren't you? You think rich people stole your money! People with twisted, dark minds like yours deserve to be poor forever!"

The administrator, stunned that this young woman would attack him so viciously without a second thought, sputtered, clutching his chest as if he couldn't breathe.

Lionel, standing to the side, was equally surprised by Cora's sudden appearance and her vitriolic outburst. He knew he was in the wrong; he had just wanted to pay for a moment of peace. The last thing he needed was a scene that would draw more attention.

"Let's go," he said coldly, turning back toward his car.

Cora felt she hadn't said nearly enough, but since Lionel had spoken, she obediently followed him.

She shot one last glare at the old man. "You got lucky today, you old fossil. With one foot in the grave, you should be praying for a quick end!"

"You—!" The administrator sank onto the bench, gasping for air. Fuming, he raised his phone and snapped a picture of their retreating backs.

Cora walked beside Lionel, their shadows stretching long under the orange glow of the streetlights. She couldn't help but inch closer to him, her heart pounding in her chest. For a fleeting moment, she imagined they were a couple, taking a peaceful evening stroll by the lake.

If only it could always be like this.

"How did you find me here?" Lionel's deep, questioning voice shattered her fantasy.

"Sir, if you need a drink to clear your head, go ahead. I can drive, so I can take you home afterward."

Lionel's eyes landed on Cora, and for a moment, he saw the Hannah of the past. She had been too timid to drive, but after one night when he got too drunk to make it home, she had resolutely learned, just so she could be the one to pick him up.

He picked up a glass and began to drink, downing one after another in morose silence. Cora sat quietly beside him. She knew he was troubled, and she understood that a quiet, perceptive woman was the most appealing kind.

Hours passed. Lionel was completely drunk, needing the restaurant owner's help to get into the passenger seat of his car.

Cora slid into the driver's seat. Leaning over the console, her hand resting on his seatback, she slowly lowered herself toward him...