I Was His Wife, Then His Widow, Then No One's But My Own novel Chapter 240

Pushing the folder to the side, he leaned back in his chair, speaking casually. "Nora, we don't need to be so formal. I already anticipated your concerns, and I've got it covered. Here are the experimental data certifications we prepared on our end. Take a look."

Finnegan pulled a document from his drawer and handed it over.

Nora took it, flipped through a few pages, her eyes rapidly scanning the critical data columns, and then snapped the folder shut, her tone strictly professional.

"Thank you, Mr. Fletcher. I'll take these back to review them thoroughly. If there are any issues, I'll bring them up immediately. This is the documentation from our institute. Please review it carefully. If everything is in order, the project will move forward."

Finnegan's brows knit together. He took the documents she offered but didn't open them, looking up with a hint of exasperation. "Do you have to speak to me so politely? We are basically family; why do things have to be this tense?"

Seeing him frown, Nora looked at him in total incomprehension.

It was like looking at a business partner making a sudden, completely unreasonable demand.

Her voice was calm to the point of being icy. "Mr. Fletcher, we are currently working. How exactly do you think I should be speaking to you?"

Finnegan was left speechless by the rebuttal. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make his voice sound less like he was losing his temper, though the restless agitation in his chest refused to fade.

He walked around his desk, stopping right in front of her. He purposefully relaxed his posture, and his voice involuntarily softened a few degrees.

"I am Mr. Fletcher at work, but I'm still Finnegan. We're practically family. We can talk about things other than work, right? How have you been lately? Are you exhausted? Do you want me to transfer you back? We have our own research institute under the Fletcher Group. You can bring your project and come back with it. You won't have to work so hard out there."

At his last sentence, the temperature in Nora's eyes plummeted to absolute zero.

She was like a pre-programmed machine—focused solely on work, and only willing to discuss work with him.

A sudden pang of longing hit him for the old Nora, the one who used to curl up in his arms and seek his comfort.

His frown deepened. "I think you've misunderstood. My main point was hoping you'd come back. It doesn't matter if you bring the project or not. We're family; we belong together."

Nora took a step back, maintaining a safe distance.

"There's no need."