Chapter 523
Callum bounced along, his small hand firmly gripping his dad''s on the left and his mom''s on the right. A
grin lit up his face like a Christmas tree; this was the first time he had held both his parents'' hands
together, and the joy was palpable.
Upon they reached Ronan’s grandpa''s house, Janice could be heard bustling in the kitchen. The tter
of pots and pans was her primary form ofmunication. She didn''t need words to express her
disapproval of Cordelia, who felt the weight of unspoken reproach and a burning desire to leave as
soon as decently possible.
"Mom, you should take a shower; you''re all wet," Callum reminded Cordelia, concerncing his voice.
Ronan lounged on the couch, engrossed in a book, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.
In the kitchen, Janice continued her culinary endeavors in silence.
The mention of a shower made Cordelia aware of the ufortable dampness clinging to her back.
The snow from earlier had melted, trickling down to her waist in an icy stream.
"But I don’t have any clothes to change into," Cordelia mentioned, a hint of hesitation in her voice.
"I think there are some," Callum said, darting off to his dad''s room in search of garments.
"Mom, look, there''s a whole closet full of clothes, and they''re all yours," Callum eximed, flinging
open the wardrobe doors.
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Cordelia was unsure when Ronan had prepared such an assortment. Whether they were indeed hers,
she didn''t know, but they would fit.
Her emotions churned, yet Callum''s eagerness made it impossible for Cordelia to refuse his suggestion
to shower in his dad''s bedroom.
"Mom, Dad''s reading in the living room, and Janice is cooking. It''d be awkward to shower elsewhere. I''ll
close the door for you," Callum said thoughtfully, every bit the considerate son.
Cordelia ruffled his hair affectionately. "Be good, sweetie."
Once Callum left, Cordelia stepped into the bathroom. Her wet clothes hung outside as she picked a
few pieces from the wardrobe to change into.
After her shower, she slipped into her underwear, and undid the safety lock on the bathroom door.
Before she could pull it open, it swung wide from the outside.
Ronan stepped in.
Cordelia clutched a towel to herself. Her gaze was flitting between fear and strange anticipation, much
like a doe caught in the headlights.
She was suddenly aware of how conflicted she felt, harboring this secret anticipation for Ronan even at
such a time.
She felt as if she had betrayed the memory of her mother''s passing, and had forgotten Ronan''s
ruthless side. Perhaps it was just that his masculine presence was too intoxicating. Ever since she''d
returned to Birchwood, and from the first moment she saw him at his grandpa''s house, she knew she
had lost. She now realized that her struggles had been for show, a performance for her deceased
mother''s watching spirit, to prove she hadn''t forgotten the hatred.
A sense of betrayal washed over her. She had been duped by her own son.
Ronan was pulling at his clothes. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ronan remained silent, and after he had shed his clothes, his body pressed against Cordelia''s. His
heat enveloped her, sending her senses into a dizzying spin.
Cordelia wanted to resist, but his hand covered her mouth, and he whispered roguishly, "No talking. We
wouldn’t want the kid to overhear adults doing... this sort of thing."
With his hand still over her mouth, Cordelia watched him through furrowed brows as he lifted one of her
legs and entered her. He seemed resolute, determined to have sex with Cordelia today.
Throughout, Cordelia didn''t utter a word. Her eyes were locked with Ronan’s. She felt a tingling
surrender coursing through her with every movement of his.
Afterward, Cordelia wrapped herself in a towel and fled to the bedside to dress, her heart pounding
uncontrobly.