The Contracted Ever After (Cordelia and Ronan)

Chapter 517

Cordelia wasn't known for having a short fuse.

"That day, he was digging through files at my place. Emerson had to leave, and he asked me out for a

bite, and I stepped out. It was just Harold at home. When I got back, the files were gone from my laptop

and sent to Dr. Dustin's inbox. Dustin is Harold's mentor. How do you explain that?" Cordelia's irritation

rose, a wave of frustration clogging her chest. "You want him to stick around. Why don't you talk to

him? Why dump it on me?"

She was on the verge of tears; the whole confrontation with Ronan left her breathless.

"Did anyone else come by?" Ronan pressed.

Cordelia sat there, trying to focus on revising her project, but her hand trembled on the mouse. Even

though her eyes were glued to the screen, she couldn't take anything in. Tears plopped down her

cheeks, but she didn't want Ronan to see her cry. She snatched a tissue and dabbed her eyes

carelessly.

"Petra popped in, but she left right away," Cordelia stated nonchalantly as she wiped her tears.

"Petra?" Ronan frowned.

Then, a long silence fell over Cordelia's home. She tried to reel her emotions back in, but they kept

drifting away, beyond her grasp.

Ronan thought to himself, “This has Petra written all over it, not Harold. He knew Harold's character,

and he wouldn't pull such a boneheaded move. Probably, Petra was stirring the pot, trying to get his

attention. Before, Ronan had turned a blind eye to what Petra did, like Jayson’s sickness and the

money lending. He knew Petra had ulterior motives, but he never took it to heart. Perhaps his lenience

and patience with her and the money he lent her gave Petra the wrong idea, emboldening her to

overstep.”

He didn't expose the truth to Cordelia. After all, they were colleagues. He feared it would make their

work relationship awkward if everything was out in the open. Plus, Harold had already decided to enlist.

Best let it be.

During this silence, Cordelia's phone pinged with a message from Eason on Messenger. [Cordelia, I'm

heading to Birchwood College the day after tomorrow for the school's ceremony.]

Another message popped up from Harold, a photo of him in his military uniform looking sharp. He had

always been a looker on the basketball court, but in uniform, he was downright dashing, no doubt he'd Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

turn quite a few heads.

Harold's message to Cordelia was lengthy. [Cordelia, meeting you has been a miracle in my life. You

are intelligent, graceful, gorgeous, and gentle, with remarkable academic achievements. Knowing you,

I wonder how exceptional a lady would have to be to surpass you. Thank you for your company these

past months. Also, I must tell you, that day at your place, it was intentional. I just wanted to be closer to

you, as close as possible. But I know about you and Mr. Evans. I didn't mean to complicate things.]

After reading it, Cordelia rested her elbow on the desk, her forehead in her palm, feeling even more

upset. After all, this whole mess with Harold had started because of her. She felt guilty but was at a

loss for a better solution. With her elbow shielding her face, Cordelia continued to cry, her sobs filled

with discomfort.

"Why do you cry whenever there's trouble? You're such a cheerful girl," Ronan said, finding her sudden

vulnerability reminiscent of a little girl's nature, a little girl he knew he could handle. So, his tone

softened, tinged with a mix of amusement and exasperation.