“I didn’t know. You’ve faked things like this before, so I thought this was another one of those times.”
He swallowed, his voice lacking conviction, his eyelids flickering.
Hannah leaned back weakly, a humorless smile on her face. “Before? When? Tell me, Lionel, when have I ever lied to you? The time I had a high fever and drove myself through a storm, collapsing on the ground—was that fake?”
“The time I was almost hit by a car and scraped my leg—was that fake?”
“The time I was pushed down the stairs and broke a bone—was that fake?”
“This time, when I was kidnapped… if Mr. Lancaster hadn't noticed I was absent without leave, called my phone, and been told by the kidnappers what happened—if he hadn't abandoned his meeting to come rescue me, I would still be locked in a dog cage right now!”
“Lionel Rosenberg, the real liar is you. You told me you were in the hospital, and I dropped everything to rush to your side, only to be handed divorce papers.”
“You tell me, between the two of us, who is the liar? Tell me!”
Hannah fought to control her anger, but the more she spoke, the more agitated she became, tears welling in her eyes.
After that first phone call, after his cold response, she had lost all hope in this man.
Hannah looked at the silent Lionel. “You don’t have to feel guilty. What’s past is past, and there’s no future for us. From now on, we’ll stay out of each other’s lives. Whatever happens to me, whatever happens to you, it’s none of the other’s business. There’s no need to make a special visit.”
It’s disgusting.
Before Lionel could respond, Hannah stood up, grabbed a change of clothes, and went into the bathroom.
Lionel remained standing there, a flicker of guilt in his eyes.
When Hannah came out of the shower, Lionel was gone.
The bouquet of lilies on the nightstand was also gone.


VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABEL
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce