It was already four in the afternoon.
Petra asked, “Guess I should head back?”
She had intentionally dragged her feet before heading over to Ronan's place, aiming to make it too late to return home. She was hoping for an excuse to crash at the Evans family residence for the night.
Ronan seemed to snap to attention as he glanced at his watch. “It’s past four already. You’d get to Birchwood late, and it’s not safe for a lady to travel alone at night.”
Petra was just contemplating how she'd gracefully decline if he invited her to stay, while also ensuring she couldn't leave.
“I’ll have the driver take you back,” Ronan added.
He was already on the phone arranging the ride.
Petra bit her lip in frustration.
“It’s late for the driver too, isn’t it?” Petra pointed out after he hung up.
“Hmm, no worries. He’ll stay at a hotel.”
Petra was silent.
Twenty minutes later, the driver’s car pulled up.
He called Ronan to say he was outside.
Ronan ushered Petra to the car.
With his hands in his pockets, he stood at the doorway, offering only a polite nod as the car drove off, with no sign of reluctance before heading back inside.
Climbing the stairs, Ronan thought: If she dares to be carrying that man’s child, I’ll kill her!
He regretted the lie he told her about being married, and part of him regretted not actually marrying Petra. Now he found himself in this awkward position, so unlike him.
At the next Lumos Enterprises meeting, Cordelia was absent as usual.
She had told Ms. Emily she was feeling unwell.
This time, Ronan didn't intervene, but during the meeting, his gaze kept drifting to her empty seat.
Fidgeting with a pencil, he accidentally flicked it onto the floor.
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