Chapter 298


    The following day.


    When Cordelia woke up, Ronan was already gone.


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    Suddenly, she remembered that her maternity clothes were tossed in the washing machinest night.


    Considering that she had both a son and a daughter, she wouldn''t need maternity clothes again and


    hadn''t bothered to buy many. She had to get changed after breakfast to go to the office, so she just


    casually picked up one of Ronan''s shirts from the hook and put it on. The buttons on the belly area


    wouldn''t button up, but she didn''t bother. She also put on a pair of leggings and headed to the dining


    room for breakfast.


    It was a grey shirt, a color that would have looked good on her if she wasn''t pregnant. Tucked into her


    waistband, it hung loose and casual.


    Janice was packing her lunch.


    "Did you make one for him too?" Cordelia asked Janice.


    "Well, I was going to make Mr. Evans'' lunch, but he said he had a meeting during that time," Janice


    replied.


    Cordelia paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth, "A meeting? With whom?"


    "You should ask him yourself. It''s not my ce to ask these questions," Janice said, "What''s going on


    with you two? You should make up."


    Cordelia remained silent. She wanted to make up, but herte mother still weighed heavy on her heart.


    She felt as if her mother was watching her from heaven.


    They were still talking when they heard the sound of keys unlocking the door.


    "Huh?" Janice remarked, "Mr. Evans is back?"


    Cordelia thought: What a coincidence that he came back this morning when she happened to be


    wearing his shirt. She sat at the dining table, feigningposure as she ate her meal, the knife and


    fork clinking with each bite.


    "I forgot some documents," Ronan said, taking off his shoes at the entryway. Then, he noticed Cordelia,


    sitting coolly at the dining table, wearing his shirt.


    She didn''t even look up when she saw him.


    She had a delicate corbone ne hanging around her neck, with two buttons on her shirt left


    unfastened, giving her a very sexy look. Beneath the table were her long legs.


    "Wearing my shirt?" Ronan fetched some documents from the bedroom and sat at the dining table,


    asking her with keen interest.


    "My clothes aren’t dry yet. I''d changeter anyway, and our shirt was just within reach," Cordelia replied


    with forced nonchnce. She didn''t care if he got the wrong impression. She did have feelings for him


    and wanted to make up.


    "True, this shirt is technically yours too," he said, tapping his fingers on the solid wooden table, "RC is


    our brand after all, half yours, half mine."


    "Is it? I didn''t pay attention to the brand." As Cordelia elegantly savored her bagel, she engaged in


    conversation with Ronan.


    Ronan observed Cordelia''s facade. Having lived with her for over a year, he could tell when she was


    genuinely angry and when she was just pretending.


    "Do you want toe with me after breakfast?" Ronan asked.


    "I think I''ll go with Tristi. She always chooses the most scenic routes," Cordelia replied.


    "Really? Not thinking of saving me some gas money?"


    It was past ten, the sun was shining brightly outside, and Ronan was trying to tease Cordelia.


    Cordelia looked up at him, "You care about gas money?"


    "If I can save some, why not?" Ronan noticed a smudge of butter on Cordelia''s lips and handed her a


    napkin.


    "Thank you."


    "You''re wee." Ronan''s tone was teasing, as if he was flirting with a respectable woman.


    And Cordelia was anything but respectable at that moment. Wearing Ronan''s shirt, she was the prey in


    his vicinity, yet feigning innocence; Ronan, aware of Cordelia''s state of mind, intentionally provoked


    her.


    They were both pushing past Shelley''s death, one trying to get closer, the other attempting to ept.


    They were acting recklessly.