Chapter 7
Lydia Fairchild rose from the sofa, her face stern.
In her younger years, she had been a formidable businesswoman, only stepping down due to poor health. Frederick heavily took after her, and they shared the same commanding aura.
Under her intense scrutiny, a thin layer of sweat broke out on Maeve’s palms as her mind raced.
“Something this serious happens and you don’t even tell me. What do you think I’m here for?” Lydia asked coldly.
Maeve’s heart instantly leaped into her throat. She couldn’t help but glance out of the corner of her eye at Martha, who was just walking in with the bags.
Had Martha ended up telling the family about her pregnancy after all?
As panic set in, Lydia gently grasped her shoulders. Maeve looked up as Lydia let out a soft sigh.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were sick p>
Maeve’s suspended heart slowly settled back into her chest. She answered gently.
“I’m fine, Lydia p>
Lydia pulled her over to sit on the sofa and felt her clammy hands.
“Why are you sweating so much? Are you weak? I brought you some homemade soup and some premium vitamins. You need to build your strength back up p>
Maeve pulled a tissue and wiped her sweaty palms.
“Thank you, Lydia p>
Maeve had striking, delicate features. Normally, a face that beautiful would look intimidating, but she possessed a pair of soft, gentle eyes.
The blend of softness and allure suited her perfectly. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, her slender frame sitting there with a quiet, elegant grace. It was enough to evoke an endless sense of protectiveness in anyone who looked at her.
This sight seemed to fill the void for the daughter Lydia had always wanted. Lydia’s typically domineering nature naturally softened whenever she interacted with Maeve.
“During the two days you were in the hospital, did Frederick go see you p>
Maeve paused for a moment before answering honestly.
“He came once p>
Lydia sat facing her, holding her hand, and spoke in an earnest tone.
“Charlie has been sick these past few days, and Frederick had to be there to take care of him. It’s inevitable that he neglected you a bit, but please don’t take it to heart p>
Maeve lowered her eyelashes as Lydia continued.
“Frederick and Felix were incredibly close growing up. Felix taking Zoe out on that boat, only for them to get caught in a storm and for him to die in a tragic sailing accident… none of us ever saw it coming.” Mentioning her deceased younger son brought a redness to Lydia’s eyes.
“The loss hit Frederick the hardest. He locked himself in his room at the family estate, flipping through old photos of him and Felix over and over, completely shattered. It wasrit until Zoe came back with Charlie… Charlie looks just like Felix. Maeve, I really hope you can try to understand Frederick p>
Listening to this, Maeve vividly recalled the day of Felix’s accident. The tall, powerful man had sat in the family estate clutching a small photo album, his eyes bloodshot. His usually straight spine was hunched and rigid, trembling slightly, utterly broken.
It was a side of Frederick she had never seen before. Her own eyes had filled with tears as she hugged him from behind, silently staying by his side.
Because of that, whenever Frederick was repeatedly called away by Zoe during their dates, or whenever he abandoned her in her moments of need to go care for Charlie, Maeve never complained.
It wasn’t until she realized how frequently he was being called away that she began to voice her dissatisfaction, only to be repeatedly scolded by Frederick for being unreasonable.
She couldn’t even remember how many times she and Frederick had fought over Zoe.
In just six short months, she had practically exhausted every ounce of emotional energy she had left in this marriage.