Crises in Love novel Chapter 371

Ronan's words calmed me down. I found myself smiling at the thought of my father being a crafty old fox.

Turning to Ronan, I murmured, "You better head back. I'm going home."

He climbed the steps and watched me walk away. I didn't look back—I simply couldn't.

However, when I eventually did glance back, Hannah was missing from the scene. She must have slipped away earlier to evade the unfolding drama! As I stepped out of the hall, there she was, lounging in the foyer's courtyard, staring at a faux rockery.

"Let's go!" I called out.

She scampered over, her head cocked curiously, "All done with Ronan?"

"What's there to be done?" I scoffed.

Hannah snorted with laughter, "You’re such a great actress. Someone's been worrying sick over you, and here you are, cool as a cucumber. I'm impressed!"

"Cool? I won't be cool until Jaylan is knocked down a peg or two! No time for anything else," I said with such conviction I almost inspired myself.

Hannah looked at me, clearly not believing every word.

"I mean it! This revenge will not go unrewarded. If I had time to think about anything else, I'd be seriously slacking off. I've got too much pride for that," I stated.

"I get it!" Hannah looked convinced. Her infectious grin spread across her face, and she nodded eagerly, "I believe you! Totally!"

I gave her a sidelong glance. "If you believe me, cut the jokes. And besides, Ronan's now Bennett, a high-flying bachelor, with women falling over themselves for him. I've had my turn in the love merry-go-round, and I'm still tripping over my own feet. How could I hog such a prime catch?"

Hannah nearly doubled over with laughter at my words.

I wanted to tease her about her embrace with Larkin the previous night, but I stopped myself.

I realized it would be best not to provide her with additional fodder to playfully torment me about Ronan, as this could spin off into a web of misunderstandings and potentially paint me as an indecent person in her perception. Back home, Jaylan wasn’t in the living room, while Mom and Helga were playing with little Carl.

After a brief search, I found Gemma slicing fruit in the kitchen.

Carl lit up at my entrance, toddling over with arms wide open. His little eyes squinted with joy, "Mommy!"

I scooped him up, feeling the familiar strain. Carl had become a chunky little butterball.