Chapter 68 Chapter 68: Lydia’s Interference
Cathy’s P.O.V
The Dalton mansion looked the same as it always did in the morning light.
It looked cold, grand and perfectly arranged, like a painting that existed only to impress people who were passing by. The stone driveway curved wide and the hedges on either side were trimmed so precisely they looked almost artificial. I had driven through this entrance hundreds of times and never once felt like I was coming home.
This morning felt no different.
Except that it did, because the moment I rounded the bend in the driveway and the front of the house came fully into view, I saw it.
A third car.
Parked beside Xavier's and behind Caroline's rental, tight against the left side of the drive, was a sleek black vehicle I recognized without needing to read the plates. I had seen that car pull up to enough family dinners and formal events to know exactly who it belonged to.
Lydia Dalton.
My stomach tightened before my brain had even fully processed it. I pulled up slowly and sat in the car for a moment after cutting the engine, my hands resting on the steering wheel. The morning air was grey and still. Last night's snow had left a thin, pale layer on the grass but the driveway had already been cleared.
I picked up my bag from the passenger seat, got out, and walked to the front door. The house swallowed me the moment I stepped inside.
They were all in the living room. Seated, as though they had arranged themselves deliberately. Xavier in the armchair closest to the fireplace. Caroline on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other, her posture careful and composed. And Lydia standing near the window with her arms folded, already turning toward the door before I had even fully crossed the threshold.
She looked at me the way she always did, like I was the dirt beneath her expensive heels that she couldn’t quite get off. But underneath it all was determination, like she had already painted me the villain of the story even before I had a chance to present my side.
"Where exactly have you been all night?"
Her voice was sharp and loud enough that it bounced off the high ceiling. I barely had time to set my bag down.
"Good morning, Lydia," I said.
"Don't good morning me," she snapped. "I have been calling this house since last night and nobody could tell me where you were. You are the Dalton family's wife, Catherine. Do you understand what that means? You cannot simply disappear for an entire night without a word and think that is acceptable behavior."
I looked at her steadily. "I stayed at a friend's house."
"A friend," she repeated, the word leaving her mouth like it tasted wrong. "What kind of friend keeps a married woman out all night?" She unfolded her arms and took a step closer. "Were you in some club? Hooking up with strangers? Fucking around since you were given a free pass, because that is exactly the kind of behavior I would expect from someone who jumps at an open marriage offer the second it's presented to her."
The room went very quiet after that. I stared at her, my heart thrashing against my ribcage.
Berating me wasn’t new to either of us, Lydia just needed an excuse to start. And usually, I would bow my head and apologize, trying to keep the peace. But after what I had learned last night, I couldn’t stay quiet any longer.
"I beg your pardon?" I said, my voice coming out harsher than intended.
"You heard me." Lydia's chin lifted. "My son told me what he offered you. A chance to work through your emotions and move forward as a couple. And what did you do? You took that offer and ran with it the same night. That tells me everything I need to know about your character. You have been using your emotions as a tool to manipulate my son from the very beginning and this proves it."
Something hot and controlled moved through my chest. I thought about the prenup sitting in Hannah's apartment right now. I thought about Sophia. I thought about everything I had sat with through the night while Lydia had apparently been planning this ambush with her son and his mistress in my own living room.
"Lydia," I said, keeping my voice level, "if you are going to hurl accusations at me, the very least you can do is confirm whether they are true before you say them out loud. Because a false allegation stated in front of witnesses is something that can be reported as harassment."
The room shifted. Lydia's eyes widened slightly. Not in fear exactly, but in the particular way of someone who was not accustomed to being spoken back to.
"Are you seriously threatening me?" she asked. "In my son's house? Are you trying to frame me for something?"
"I am not framing anyone, I’m defending myself from suggestive assessments of my character. There’s a difference." I said clearly. "I am telling you that this house has CCTV cameras throughout. I installed the system myself and I have access to every second of footage from last night. And the streets I drove through last night also have cameras. So if you would like to make a claim about where I was or what I was doing, I have a complete record that says otherwise." I looked at her without blinking. "So please. Be careful before you say anything else that isn't true, or at least have proof backing your statments."
Lydia opened her mouth and then closed it.
Caroline looked at the floor.
"Enough."
Xavier's voice cut across the room. He stood up from the armchair and I turned to look at him. His jaw was tight and his eyes were hard and there was something in his expression I hadn't seen before, not just irritation but something closer to alarm, the look of a man who had expected a script to go one way and found it going another entirely.
"Cathy, that is enough," he said. "I don't know what has gotten into you but this is not who you are. You don't speak to my mother this way. You don't make threats in this house." He stepped forward. "Whatever is going on with you, you need to stop right now. This is not the Cathy I know."
I looked at him. The Cathy he knew.
The one who smoothed things over quietly. The one who stood slightly behind him at charity auctions and smiled on cue and never raised her voice. The one he had described to Caroline as an obedient dog.
"You cheated on me," I said, my voice was calm and clear and I made no effort to lower it. "You brought another woman into our home and into our marriage and you have been doing it for long enough that it stopped feeling like something you were ashamed of. So before you tell me how I need to behave, Xavier, you need to look very carefully at your own behavior first. You are the one who broke this marriage. Not me."
Something passed across his face. Something fast and dark that I didn't have time to name.
He crossed the room in three steps. And then his hand connected with my face.
SWACK!!!.
The sound came before the pain did. A sharp, flat crack that seemed to echo in the tall-ceilinged room. My head snapped to the side and I stumbled, catching the edge of the side table with my hand to stop myself from going all the way down. My bag slipped off my shoulder and hit the floor.
The room was absolutely silent.
I straightened slowly. My cheek was burning, a deep, pulsing heat that radiated all the way to my ear. My eyes had watered on reflex and I blinked once, twice, refusing to let a single tear fall.
I turned my head and looked at Xavier.