She's Too Busy Winning to Watch Him Cry novel Chapter 612

Unable to sit still, Maisie wandered off into the home theater, leaving Lyra and Zane alone in the living room.

Zane took a sip of the tea the staff had poured him. He looked at Lyra, his tone earnest. "Blackwood Manor is peaceful. It's a good place for you to rest during your pregnancy."

Lyra met his gaze. "Yes."

Zane's expression remained completely open and above board, without a hint of crossed boundaries. "No matter what anyone says about your marriage to Rowan, you'll always be incredible in my eyes. Just focus on taking care of yourself and delivering the baby safely."

"Thank you," Lyra smiled. She had grown accustomed to hearing those kinds of pleasantries.

Zane's gentle eyes were exceptionally clear. "Of course. It's getting late, and I shouldn't disrupt your rest. I'll leave Maisie here to keep you company for a bit while I head back."

He had only meant to drop Maisie off. Knowing full well how violently possessive Rowan was, Zane knew it was highly inappropriate for him to linger.

Maisie, however, was eager to hang around a while longer.

"Alright," Lyra agreed, not pressing him to stay.

Once upon a time, the two of them had endless things to talk about. But times had changed. She was married now and carrying a child, and he had a serious girlfriend. They had both found their own paths. The intimacy of their old conversations had slowly faded away.

The two walked slowly toward the front door. Right before stepping off the porch, Zane stopped and turned his head. "You're nearly four months along now, right?" he asked softly.

Lyra's eyes softened. "Yes. Exactly four months today."

"Make sure you stay happy during this pregnancy," Zane said gently. "You don't need to walk me any further. Go back inside."

Lyra gave a soft nod. "Take care driving back."

Zane gave her one last look, said nothing more, and headed to his car, driving off into the distance.

Lyra sank back into the living room sofa. The muffled, surprisingly sweet sound of Maisie singing floated out from the home theater. Lyra rested her hands gently over her bump, a smile curving her eyes as she murmured to Pip, telling him to listen to the pretty music.

A few moments later, Maisie strolled out of the theater, still humming. Scanning the room, she looked confused. "Did my brother leave?"

"Yeah, he left you here to keep me company," Lyra replied. "You must be thirsty after all that singing."

Lyra's lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes," she answered flatly.

Just as the word left her mouth, heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed from the foyer.

Maisie shrank into the sofa. Spotting Rowan, she shot up awkwardly and mumbled, "R-Rowan..."

"Why are you back?" Lyra asked, turning to face him. "The chef didn't prepare lunch for you."

"That's fine. I'll just eat whatever you leave on your plate."

Lyra didn't respond to that.

Rowan shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it carelessly over the back of a dining chair.

When the three of them finally sat down to eat, Maisie felt like she was sitting on pins and needles. The married couple didn't exchange a single word. The oppressive silence in the room was suffocating, and it was agonizingly clear that Rowan was in a terrible mood.