Chapter 1284
Lydia lowered her head and, with a click, turned the doorknob.
Just as she opened the door, Tiffany, overwhelmed by the effects of the drug, collapsed into Quincy's arms.
Quincy had been caught off guard. He had only meant to help her, but Tiffany, standing behind him, suddenly made a move, catching him by surprise. Without warning, she lunged, causing both of them to fall onto the bed. As she reached for his lips, Quincy's eyes darkened, and he tilted his head just in time, causing her kiss to land awkwardly on his chin.
He frowned, pulling away, but at that exact moment, the door swung open.
He looked up, stunned, and saw Lydia standing there.
She took a step back.
"Lydia, wait! Nothing happened between us!" For the first time, the usual calm on his face cracked as he stumbled to his feet.
But Lydia recoiled even faster. The sadness on her face was overwhelming, and without a word, she turned and left.
Quincy tried to run after her, but Tiffany held onto him tightly.
He watched Lydia's figure disappear, his heart filled with despair.
It felt all too familiar.
The last time Lydia left, he spent a day and a night searching for her, followed by two or three days waiting for her to return.
This time, how long would she be gone? Would she ever come back to him?
Lydia returned home, lost and broken.
Mrs. Lucy had just come back from her time off, and upon seeing Lydia, she couldn't hide her surprise. "Ma'am, you're back? I thought you were still at the hospital?" Lydia didn't respond. At that moment, she didn't want to talk to anyone.
Lydia locked herself in the room, the
air heavy with his presence. His toothbrush, his cup, his towel and everything in the room had him in it. Even half of the bed still had his
scent clinging to the sheets.
He used to say he wanted no one but her, that she was the only one. But he hadn't kept that promise.
People always say, "seeing is believing", and now she had seen it with her own eyes. Quincy was in someone else's arms.
Instinctively, Lydia's hand moved to
her stomach It was a habit she had developed over the last few months.
No feeling, was more corret
than the gentle curve of her growing belly, a constant reminder of the life inside her. Every time she felt that small rise, it filled her with happiness.
But this time, all she felt was the flatness of her abdomen.
Her baby was gone. And now, it seemed, so was her home.
The weight of her grief, mixed with the unbearable heartache, hit her like a tidal wave. She felt as if she were being strangled, barely able to breathe. Her home was gone. Everything was gone.
What was the point of staying here?
Upstairs, the sound of things being moved around echoed through the house. Mrs. Lucy, confused and concerned, debated whether she should check on Lydia.
Something was definitely wrong. Lydia didn't seem like herself, and after all, she had just lost her child. Mrs. Lucy didn't want to upset her any further.
Before she could decide what to do, Quincy burst into the house, eyes red from exhaustion.
He looked disheveled, his normally pristine suit wrinkled and his eyes bloodshot with weariness.
"Where is she?" Quincy asked, his voice hoarse.
Startled, Mrs. Lucy quickly replied, "She's upstairs."
Quincy rushed upstairs, but by the time he reached her room, Lydia had already packed her things.
However, there wasn't much she
planned to take. Just a towel, a few pieces of clothing, and the little toys and baby clothes she had lovingly prepared for the child.
Even though the baby was gone, she still wanted to take them with her.
It was as if, by holding onto those items, she could keep her child close, as if the baby were still with her in some small way.Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g