Zoey began, “Cathy, I will be frank with you. I should have left the responsibility of entertaining you to Mark’s future wife. However, you know it’s uncomfortable for both of you to see each other. Perhaps you should refrain from meeting her in the future.
Well, I have to say you’re quite thoughtful when it comes to gifts, unlike Mark’s young and inexperienced wife. Just earlier, she was burnt while tasting the turkey I made. If Mark comes home later and knows this, he might be worried sickly. But I suppose that’s the way of young couples getting along, right?”
Zoey’s remark hinted at something, causing Cathy’s expression to shift slightly.
It appeared as if Zoey was praising Cathy while subtly expressing her dissatisfaction with Cecilia.
However, Cathy could discern the underlying message in Zoey’s words. Despite what Zoey had said about Cecilia, Zoey still held a great deal of affection for Cecilia.
Slightly uncomfortable, Cathy adjusted herself in her seat.
Zoey held a high reputation within the social circles and wouldn’t utter harsh words directly at Cathy. She opted to express her messages to Cathy subtly.
Just as Zoey thought Cathy would take her leave after catching the hints, Mark arrived home at this moment.
As soon as Mark laid eyes on Cathy, his expression soured.
He didn’t expect to see her here, nor was he happy about it.
Mark thought he had made things clear to Cathy. Cathy wasn’t stupid. She knew what she was doing. Still, she went to his house. Clearly, she wanted to make things difficult for Cecilia.
As a man of high status, he couldn’t bring himself to drive Cathy away directly.
Thus, he decided to handle this situation with finesse.
Mark removed his coat, revealing the gray shirt and dark wool trousers hidden beneath it. His choice of clothes highlighted his gentle yet elegant nature.
The servant handed him a hot towel, which Mark used to wipe his hands.
“Peter, why don’t you ask your wife to come and have dinner with us?” Mark said with a friendly smile.
Peter always knew when and how to cooperate with Mark.
With a smile, Peter took the towel from Mark and said, “Mr. Evans, thanks for your kind invitation. But I’ll pass. It’s Christmas Eve. I’d better go home. After all, my wife and children are waiting for me to come back so that we can celebrate the festival together.”
Mark nodded, his smile lingering on his face.
He peeked his head into the living room and deliberately raised his voice.
“Cecilia,” he called her in a natural, casual tone.
“Peter will go home later to celebrate the festival. Why don’t you walk him out?”