His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 807

Jonathan’s sharp gaze made Niamh’s heart pound even faster in her chest.

“Of course,” she replied, her tone firm and decisive.

Their eyes met, and to his surprise, Jonathan saw no fear or deceit in hers. Niamh’s gaze was open and resolute.

Jonathan’s lips parted slightly. He had wanted to say, “I don’t think so… Flynn doesn’t seem like Marlin’s father. He doesn’t even seem like he’s pursuing you… What are you hiding from me? What are you running from?”

But in the end, he didn’t voice any of his questions. He had a feeling she wouldn’t answer him, or if she did, it wouldn’t be the truth.

The study filled with an oppressive tension radiating from him, and Niamh felt as if she was struggling to breathe. They stared at each other, locked in a silent battle of wills.

After a long moment, Jonathan was the first to look away.

“The opening ceremony for the Coralis General Hospital is tomorrow. I’ve already coordinated with the government officials, and the photographers and reporters are all set. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

Hearing him suddenly switch to business, Niamh let out a quiet sigh of relief. She had thought he would keep pressing her about Marlin’s parentage.

“Okay. Thank you for all your hard work.” The words sounded as if he were her employee. To be fair, in the fight to take down Ramona and save the Quinn family, Jonathan had done most of the heavy lifting.

Niamh’s gaze drifted back to him. Jonathan’s deep, dark eyes seemed to be coated in a layer of dust, their usual light dimmed. She could see his disappointment and the restraint he was exercising—holding back from questioning her about Marlin. In her experience, Jonathan had never been a patient man, yet here he was, forcing himself to suppress his doubts so as not to pressure her.

Niamh was busy in the kitchen for half an hour before emerging with a plate of crispy fried shrimp, another of savory chicken wraps, and two bowls of pasta.

“I haven’t made this in a while. I hope it’s to your liking.”

Jonathan took a deep breath, inhaling the rich, savory aroma. It was a smell he had missed for a long time. He hadn’t even taken a bite, but a look of pure bliss spread across his face, making Niamh smile in spite of herself. For weeks now, Jonathan had been the one doing all the cooking. Niamh felt she truly owed him a proper treat.

Originally, one of the two servings of pasta was for her. But before she could even pick up her fork, she watched as Jonathan devoured everything on the table like a whirlwind—the entire plate of shrimp, the chicken wraps, and both servings of pasta.

Niamh’s jaw dropped. “Are you not worried about indigestion, eating so much this late at night?”