Accidentally Yours, My Super Rich Second Husband-Chapter 65: Her Claims
The tension in the room was clear as Lydia crossed her arms, her piercing gray eyes fixed on Evander. The slight tilt of her lips suggested amusement, but it was clear she was sizing him up, as she always did.
"So, how are you doing these days?" Lydia asked, her voice light, almost casual, as though they were old friends catching up.
Evander leaned back against the couch, his expression didn’t change. "I was fine," he snapped, his words biting. He let his gaze drift lazily to her, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "Until you showed up."
Lydia laughed, the sound high and airy, but there was a flicker of something else in her expression—irritation, perhaps. She shrugged off the jab and walked over to the armchair across from him, sitting down with the ease of someone who believed she belonged anywhere she pleased. Crossing one long leg over the other, she sat back and eyed him with quiet indifference.
"I see you haven’t changed one bit," she said, tapping her manicured nails on the armrest. "Still as mean as ever when it comes to me."
Evander scoffed, reaching for the empty wine glass on the table before setting it down again. He didn’t refill it, though it was clear he wanted to. "And I can say the same about you," he replied evenly. "Still enjoy barging into places where you’re not wanted."
Lydia’s lips pressed into a tight line, and for a moment, her polished demeanor cracked. But just as quickly, she replaced the irritation with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
"How’s work?" she asked, her voice overly sweet. "And everything else? Life treating you well?"
Evander didn’t bother to answer. His stare didn’t falter as he looked right at her, his silence making it clear that he had no interest in indulging her small talk.
Lydia shrugged, acting like his coldness didn’t matter. "In my case, busy, as always," she said breezily. "You know how it is. Between brand deals, photo shoots, and events, I barely have time to breathe."
Evander leaned his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together as he watched her speak. Internally, he couldn’t help but acknowledge that she was telling the truth. Lydia had built a wildly successful career for herself. She was one of the most recognizable faces in the industry, her image plastered across billboards, magazine covers, and television screens.
Not that I have much of a choice in seeing her, he thought bitterly. Every time I turn around, there she is—smiling from a magazine or glaring at me from a billboard.
On the outside, he stayed calm. "Enough of this. Let’s not waste time with pleasantries. Just tell me why you’re here."
Lydia arched a perfectly shaped brow, tilting her head slightly. "Why else would I be here?" she said with a smile too sweet to be sincere. "I came to see Ashton."
Evander chuckled, the sound low and humorless. "Son?" he echoed, leaning forward slightly. The faint gleam in his eyes betrayed his scorn as he watched her. "Don’t you mean the son you abandoned?"
Lydia’s expression shifted instantly. Her smile vanished, replaced by a tense, serious look. The teasing tone vanished as she straightened up. "Where is he?" she demanded.
Evander’s posture screamed relaxed, but the fire in his eyes didn’t fade. "You’re not going to meet him," he said simply.
Lydia’s face hardened. Without another word, she stood abruptly. Her heels clicked sharply against the floor as she started walking away.
"Fine," she said, her voice cold. "I’ll find him myself. He’s in his room, isn’t he?"
She raised her voice, calling out, "Ashton!"
Evander shot to his feet, moving swiftly to block her path. His large hand gripped her arm tightly, pulling her back with a force that made her stumble slightly.
"Didn’t you hear me the first time?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I can report you for breaking in, Lydia. Trespassing. Harassment. You name it."
Lydia yanked her arm free, glaring at him. "Go ahead!" she snapped, her gray eyes blazing with challenge. "But let me see Ashton first!"
"Not going to happen," Evander said flatly, releasing her and turning away. He returned to the couch, sitting down like nothing had happened.
Lydia followed, her heels tapping on the floor with each step. She stopped just short of the coffee table, crossing her arms again.
"Do you really think you can keep him from me?" she asked, her voice quieter but no less intense. "He’s my son, Evander. My blood. My flesh. You can’t treat me like this."
Evander didn’t respond immediately. He pressed his fingers to his temple, rubbing slowly as though trying to ward off an oncoming headache. It had only been a few minutes, but dealing with Lydia was already wearing him down.
Finally, he looked up at her. "Why not?" he asked, his tone cold.
Lydia pointed to herself, her expression fierce. "Because I’m his mother!" she said, her voice rising slightly. "I carried him for nine months. I sacrificed my life to bring him into this world. I have every right to see him."
Evander’s expression didn’t change, but his gaze hardened further. He leaned back, his arms resting on the couch as he looked at her with an icy calm.
"Where were those words," he said slowly, his voice like a blade, "when all I can remember is you saying you didn’t want him?"
His words made her flinch, her posture tight for a moment before she snapped back, her chin held high.
"That was in the past," she said, her voice softer but no less determined. She took a step closer to him. "I was young and stupid, okay? I made a mistake. But I realize now that I was wrong."
She closed the remaining distance between them, her tone growing softer, almost pleading. "I want to make it right. I want us to be a family again."
Before Evander could respond, Lydia moved behind him, leaning down and wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. Her hand barely grazed him, but the familiarity in the gesture made Evander tense.
"I miss Ashton," she murmured, her voice warm and coaxing. "I miss you." She rested her chin lightly on his shoulder, her breath brushing against his ear. "I miss us."
