The Contracted Ever After (Cordelia and Ronan)

Chapter 439



Chapter 439

Harold had come to see Ronan as family. In his mind. Ronan was worldly and was currently probing

about Cordelia's past for him.

"I had a relationship once back in college," Cordelia replied.

"Oh, is that so? And then? Why didn't you stay together?"

"He went to volunteer in a rural area. He passed away trying to save a child who fell into the water,"

Cordelia said.

"Oh, he was a good man. And after that, did you date anyone else?" Ronan was persistent, questioning

like an interested job interviewer.

"After that..." Cordelia paused. "No."

Ronan's hand shook slightly as he extinguished his cigarette. "It seems Ms. Haselwood still holds on to

her college romance. How old are you, Harold?" Ronan turned to Harold.

"Me?" Harold looked at Cordelia sheepishly, his eyes filled with love and guilt. "I'm twenty-three."

"That's thirteen years younger than me. I could be your uncle." Ronan joked at his own expense.

"No way." Harold felt a bit guilty about his age, sensing Cordelia's disapproval. He apologized with his

eyes.

If anyone else had asked, Harold would have retorted with, "None of your business." But it was Mr.

Evans asking. Harold was always well-behaved in front of Ronan.

Cordelia kept her gaze down, nervously fiddling with her fingers. Every word from Ronan sounded like

concern to Harold. Yet, to her, every sentence was a veiled insult.

"Where are you from, Ms. Haselwood?" Ronan asked again.

"I'm from Millstone, went to college there."

"I'm also from Millstone." Harold beamed; his teeth were white, radiating a warm and charming kind of

attractiveness.

"You both are from Millstone and met in Birchwood, isn't that fate?" Ronan teased. But only he knew Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

what he was really thinking.

"I was from Birchwood, then moved to Millstone. Ms. Haselwood is from Millstone but came to

Birchwood. Life's twists and turns are unpredictable." Ronan squinted, his gaze fixed on Cordelia.

"What brought you to Birchwood?"

"Oh, the former CEO of Empower Operations visited England and offered me a position. I hadn't

decided to come until a friend, who teaches at Birchwood College, convinced me." Cordelia replied

dutifully.

"I see," Ronan said, "I thought you moved for someone or something."

"No," Cordelia said.

"I was overthinking." Ronan laughed self-deprecatingly.

"Oh, speaking of Empower Operations, our mentor, Dr. Dustin, recommended me for a part-time job as

an assistant there," Harold said excitedly.

"Dustin?" Ronan said, "You know him?"

"Yes, Mr. Evans, you do?"

"Yes, he was a student of my grandfather's."

"You’re going to be an assistant at Empower Operations? I’m an independent director there." Cordelia

looked at Harold, surprised.

"I know, and so does Dr. Dustin." Harold turned to Cordelia.

"Well, it seems that not only your classmates know about your relationship, but your professors also

support it." Ronan clasped his hands together slowly, his voice was calm and steady. "What a perfect

match!"

Cordelia knew he was a master at veiled insults.

Harold, however, thought Ronan was sincere.

"Let's eat, I'm hungry," Callum whined. He had wanted this lady to be with his dad, but unfortunately, he

was too late.

After dinner, Cordelia excused herself, claiming she had a headache. Harold didn't stop her, but he

wanted a word with Ronan.

"Mr. Evans, about me pursuing Cordelia, could you not tell my mom yet? Just tell her she's a regular

student." Harold pleaded.

"Why?" In the shadow of the entrance of the restaurant, Ronan asked Harold slowly.

"Cordelia isn't old, but she's so much older than me. Plus, she's a teacher. I'm afraid my mom will

accuse me of inappropriate behavior." Harold completely trusted Ronan and spoke from his heart.

"You're afraid your mom won't agree?" Ronan asked understandingly.

"Yes."

"I won't say anything. There will come a day when you'll have to tell her yourself." Ronan patted

Harold's shoulder.

"Okay." Ronan and Harold went their separate ways at the restaurant entrance.


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