My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 25

Hannah met his stare, then calmly stepped aside to let him pass without a word.

As she walked past him, Lionel’s hand shot out and clamped around her slender wrist.

“I asked you a question. Didn’t you hear me?”

“I’m going out for some air.”

The lie was so obvious he scoffed. “Going to see Yves, are you? He’s so good to you. Why didn’t he drive you home instead of letting you get caught in the rain?”

Hannah looked at him. His words were laced with mockery, but underneath, she detected a faint trace of… jealousy? Or maybe it was just satisfaction that Yves hadn’t driven her, proving he wasn’t as considerate as he seemed.

She forced a smile and pulled her wrist from his grasp. “Because Mr. Lancaster understands boundaries, especially since he knows I’m a married woman. It’s called respect.”

With that, she turned and walked down the stairs, not sparing him another glance.

Lionel stood on the landing, looking down at her, his grandmother’s words from the day before echoing in his mind.

Boundaries…

That viper Yves knew nothing about boundaries. This was just another one of his games.

...

In the coffee shop, the consignment shop manager was already waiting. She greeted Hannah warmly as she approached.

Hannah handed over the jewelry and its authenticity certificates.

She checked the guest room. It was empty, too.

“Where’s Lionel?” she asked Lily, who was tidying up nearby.

“Mr. Rosenberg left right after you did, ma’am,” Lily whispered. “Mrs. Rosenberg Sr. is already asleep; she doesn’t know.”

Hannah quietly closed the door. “Keep it that way. Don’t let Grandma find out. And when he gets back, tell him to stay in the guest room, just like before.”

She then returned to the master bedroom. After a quick shower, she stepped out of the bathroom and her eyes fell on the photo wall.

She loved taking pictures, but Lionel hated it. She’d had to sneak candid shots of him, printing them out and arranging them on the wall next to photos of herself. Now, looking at them, each picture felt like a testament to her own foolishness.

Her hair still damp, Hannah walked over to the wall and pulled down every single photo. One by one, she took a pair of scissors and cut them into pieces, her eyes dark and empty, filled only with contempt for her own naive heart.