My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 222

Hearing her words, Quennel looked at Hannah in surprise, a faint smile playing on his lips. He had expected her to feel sorry for Lionel, to see him beaten and forgive him for his endless series of blunders.

He never imagined she could be so resolute.

“What did you say?” Lionel roared. “Hannah, say that again!”

Hannah took a deep, steadying breath, ignoring the man’s furious shouts. She swallowed the bitterness and frustration lodged in her throat and walked straight back into her hospital room.

Seeing her leave, Lionel lunged forward to follow, but Quennel blocked his path.

“Shouldn’t your biggest concern right now be Sandra?” he taunted condescendingly. “You wouldn’t want her to wake up, not see you, and throw herself off another building in despair, would you? Then you’d just find a way to blame Hannah for that, too.”

Lionel’s brow tightened, and he grabbed Quennel by the collar.

“Quennel, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. Let me make this clear: Hannah and I will never get a divorce. You’ll never have her!”

Quennel just smiled faintly, pulling Lionel’s hand away. His gaze shifted to the figures approaching from behind Lionel.

It was Mr. and Mrs. Woods.

Lionel noticed his gaze and turned to see them. As soon as they saw him looking, the couple hurried over.

“Sandra’s… her surgery is over. She’s been moved to her room,” Mrs. Woods said, her voice a hushed, hopeful whisper. “Mr. Rosenberg, would you… would you like to see her?”

Lionel hesitated, his eyes fixed on the closed door to Hannah’s room.

“Hah.” Quennel let out a cold laugh at his indecision and pulled out his phone. “Send two guards to Hannah’s room,” he said into the phone. “No one gets in or out without permission.”

Quennel walked over and closed the window.

“Hannah, don’t be too upset. The most important thing right now is to take care of yourself. We can deal with everything else later.” He turned to look at her lonely figure, a pang of unease in his chest.

Anyone with eyes could see how biased Lionel’s heart was. Yet she had remained so devoted, so foolish, constantly brainwashing herself into believing that if she just did a little more, tried a little harder, she could finally win his love.

What a fool.

“You get some rest. I’ll be in the small adjoining room. Just call out if you need anything,” Quennel said, opening the door to the small room meant for family stays.

“Quennel,” Hannah called out, looking at him. “Aren’t you going home?”

He stopped. “You silly girl, what am I supposed to say to that? Right now, nothing is more important than being here with you. I won’t bother you. Just take some time for yourself.”