Night had fallen outside.
When Preston Keaton came downstairs, only Regina Hale was sitting in the living room. Seeing him, she pushed a teacup his way and said gently, "Don't worry. She's sleeping in your room."
Preston Keaton sat down with a calm and composed air. "What did you two talk about?"
Even though he was eager to see her, he didn't show it in the slightest. His gaze lowered impassively, displaying a superficial composure.
"You want to know about women's talk too?"
Regina Hale glanced at him a few times before speaking with a sigh of resignation. "Preston, you need to give her some space. Pushing someone too hard can often backfire. Evelyn is still young—six years younger than you. She won't like being controlled."
It seemed they had gotten along quite well during his absence.
Preston Keaton had gotten the answer he wanted. He stood up with a small smile. "Mm, I know. I'll go up, then."
