His Housewife Had Secret Identities novel Chapter 299

Sprague and the others were on edge, nerves stretched to the breaking point, when Jonathan’s phone rang—the call was from Coralis.

“…Really? That’s great… All right, I’ll send someone to pick him up right away.”

As he hung up, the tension finally eased from Jonathan’s usually stern face.

“Nestor’s agreed to perform the surgery,” he announced.

Sprague and Marigold breathed simultaneous sighs of relief.

“That’s wonderful! Jonathan, you always find a way,” Sprague said, clapping him on the shoulder.

But Jonathan only frowned slightly at the praise.

Why had Nestor suddenly changed his mind?

Was it really because of him?

Jonathan doubted it.

At that moment, Niamh appeared at the end of the corridor, her figure sharpening into focus as she approached.

Marigold immediately couldn’t resist a sharp-tongued jab. “Well, look who’s still hanging around—some people really do have a thick skin. You’ve done nothing to help, yet you’re still loitering here pretending to care. What’s the act, trying to play the dutiful daughter all of a sudden?”

Niamh said nothing, her eyes searching Jonathan’s face. She’d meant to ask if Nestor had contacted him, but Jonathan spoke first.

“There’s nothing more for you to do here. You should leave,” he said, his voice cold as steel.

Niamh knew Jonathan blamed her.

She did bear some responsibility for what happened to Clifford; she couldn’t deny that. But everything she’d said before had been the truth. And honestly, if blame was being handed out, wasn’t Jonathan just as much—if not more—at fault?

She held his gaze for a long moment.

Jonathan’s eyes were like the sea on a winter night: dark and cold.

In the end, Niamh didn’t leave.

And Jonathan didn’t try to make her go again.

Three hours later, Nestor arrived at Harmony General Hospital—a world-renowned cardiac surgeon, the youngest chief of cardiology at St. Aurora Medical Center in Coralis.

The surgery lasted a grueling six hours.

As Niamh studied him, Nestor was sizing her up, too.

“You’ve changed a lot,” he finally said.

Niamh smiled but didn’t reply.

She couldn’t even remember how she used to appear in Nestor’s eyes. Compared to her old self, the woman she was now—Niamh—was almost unrecognizable. If they’d passed each other on the street, he might never have realized who she was.

She thought of Jonathan.

He hadn’t recognized her either.

She’d always believed Jonathan was different from the rest. How wrong she’d been.

At the sound of Niamh’s quiet sigh, Nestor shifted the conversation.

“It’s been years. Haven’t you ever thought about visiting your aunt and uncle? They still think about you, you know…”

Niamh knew exactly which aunt and uncle Nestor meant.