As her body sank into the soft, comfortable bed, Niamh still felt groggy and disoriented. Drowsy, she turned over, ready to fall back asleep.
Just then, Jonathan cleared his throat beside her. “Ahem… are you planning to sleep in your robe?”
His reminder made her realize belatedly that she hadn’t changed into her pajamas. Meanwhile, Jonathan, who had only been wearing a towel during the video call, was now dressed in a set of silk pajamas. The metallic gray fabric had a luxurious texture and drape, which on him looked less like casual homewear and more like a statement of elegance and opulence. Jonathan always had excellent taste, from his suits to his sleepwear.
For a fleeting moment, Niamh was transported back to the past—back when she was still his wife. She used to fantasize about having a child with him, the three of them wearing matching family outfits or cute, cartoon-themed pajamas. She had once tentatively bought him a pair with a cartoon print, but he had dismissed them as childish and thrown them away.
Thinking back now, she wondered what she had been thinking. A high-society elite like Jonathan would never wear something with cartoons on it. He didn’t even want a child with her, let alone matching family outfits.
Jonathan watched Niamh on the bed, her eyes shifting from sleepy confusion to clear-eyed awareness. The light in them slowly chilled.
He had a gut feeling he had somehow managed to upset her again. After a moment's hesitation between getting her some pajamas and asking her directly, he chose the latter.
“Niamh, did I… do something wrong again?”
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