Chapter 162
"Anne..."
Lisbeth worried about her daughter. Anne was the friendly type who could chat with anyone. She was afraid that if Wilder rejected Anne, the little girl would be heartbroken.
Sebastian caught her wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze—a silent message not to worry.
Lisbeth looked closer.
Wilder bent down and picked Anne up. His arms locked up like he'd never held a child before, so stiff it looked like he might drop her any second. But if you looked carefully, you'd see he was terrified of letting her fall—his hands gripped her securely, his eyes darting around like he didn't know where to look.
Sebastian leaned close to Lisbeth's ear. "All the kids in the family are scared of Grandfather. He's never held any of them."
"Including you?"
"Including me."
Shock flickered across Lisbeth's face. No wonder Wilder held children like they were made of glass.
Over there, Wilder said stiffly, "Sebastian, take your daughter."
Anne immediately wrapped her arms around Wilder's neck. She actually liked this old gentleman. He smelled nice, and even though he looked really old, his arms were steady.
Kids had a sixth sense for kindness, and Anne clearly had no intention of letting go.
"Are you my great-grandfather?"
Wilder went rigid. Something warm and fuzzy tugged at his chest—a feeling he couldn't quite name.
Sebastian knew exactly what it was—he'd been hit with the cute attack. His daughter was adorable and gorgeous, with those big, bright, crystal-clear eyes. No one could resist the power of toddler charm.
He bit back a smile and shrugged helplessly. "There's nothing I can do. Anne's stubborn as they come. Unless you can convince her to let go of herself, no one's prying her off."
"You. Get this child off me."
Looking helpless, Wilder turned to Lisbeth, his expression still sour. But with a toddler in his arms and that statue-like rigidity to his posture, the whole scene was oddly comical.
Lisbeth stepped forward and held out her arms. Without a word, Anne tumbled into her mother's embrace.
"Mommy, doesn't great-grandfather like me?"
Lisbeth smoothed her daughter's hair. "That's not a question Mommy can answer, sweetie."
Anne's little mouth turned down, looking hurt.
Sebastian came over, ruffling Anne's hair and pinching her cheek. "Grandfather, if you don't like us, just say so. We won't come back again."
Wilder's gaze automatically went to Anne. Those big eyes blinked up at him, looking wounded.
Wilder considered himself hard-hearted, but he'd always had a soft spot for family. And this was the first child in years who'd actually wanted to come near him without fear.
A three-year-old—soft and sweet-smelling. Holding her was like holding a cloud. He hadn't even dared to squeeze!
"When did I say I disliked her?" Wilder refused to address whether he disliked Sebastian and Lisbeth, but he shot down any suggestion that he disliked Anne. "You two can stay away if you want, but if Anne wants to visit, you don't have the right to stop her. Parents or not."
Sebastian's mouth twitched. "You're saying parents don't have the right to object? Then what exactly were you doing just now?"
Wilder's face went rigid. Damn. That contradicted everything he'd just said. Flustered and annoyed, he barked, "Get out, get out, all of you get out!"
Everyone got chased out of the study. David replayed the whole fiasco in his mind, shaking his head at the absurdity. He glanced over—Hazel still wore that sour expression.
"Don't think this is over just because Anne charmed her way through it," Hazel said coldly.
"Don't worry. We won't darken your door until you're ready to see us."
If you can't beat them, avoid them. Sebastian held Lisbeth's hand on his left and Anne's on his right, feeling like his world was complete.
Watching the three of them about to leave, Hazel couldn't help calling out to Lisbeth. "Are you sure about this? Are you sure you want Sebastian to end up like Leopold? You want to walk down the same road you already failed once?"
A road that had already led to failure.
Lisbeth's steps faltered. She looked at Sebastian. He was already looking down at her, his eyes like the ocean depths—vast enough to hold everything.
An unexpected calm settled over her.
This feeling was different from what she'd had with Leopold. Back when she and Leopold had decided to be together no matter what, even defying their parents, her heart had been full of anxiety.
She'd been afraid Leopold would regret it someday. Afraid their relationship wouldn't have a happy ending. Afraid that one day Leopold would stop loving her, and all their struggles would become a joke.
Later, she'd learned a hard truth—the more you feared something, the less you could escape it.
"I believe he won't."
The words slipped out before Lisbeth even realized what she was saying.
After she said it, she surprised herself. She could still trust someone without reservation.
She'd thought Leopold had used up all her trust.
A smile curved Sebastian's lips. "I won't let Ms. Whitaker's trust down."
Watching the three of them walk away, panic crept over Hazel. She had a sinking feeling that once they left, her son would never change his mind. Her desperation made her reckless.
"Lisbeth, you're a demon! A curse!"
Sebastian's expression went cold, but he didn't stay to argue with his mother. Instead, he quickly led Lisbeth and Anne away from that hostile place.
The guests downstairs watched them leave with dignity. Connecting that with the entire York family disappearing upstairs earlier, they could piece together what had happened.
"Looks like Mr. Sebastian York found his true love," someone in the crowd murmured.
Someone else chimed in, "Lisbeth Whitaker is so lucky..."
Hazel rushed downstairs just in time to hear that comment. Her vision went black with rage—she nearly passed out.
That wretched boy was beyond saving!
...
The car rolled down the road, filled with Anne's babbling chatter and Lisbeth's occasional responses. Kids had endless energy but limited stamina.
Before long, Anne had curled up in her mother's arms, fast asleep.
Lisbeth gently patted Anne's back, her gaze drifting to Sebastian in the driver's seat.
Sebastian's voice was warm. "Why are you staring at me like that? Do I have something on my face?"
Lisbeth shook her head, her voice soft. "You shouldn't have fought with your family over me."
"Not over you. For myself."
Lisbeth looked at him, confused.
Sebastian slowed down to keep from jostling Anne awake. His multi-million-dollar luxury car was now going slower than a moped.
"Everything I did today had nothing to do with you. I made a choice for myself." He caught her eyes in the rearview mirror. "Remember this—every choice was mine. Because I want to be with you. You don't need to feel guilty."
A memory surfaced. She and Leopold had once had a conversation like this.
Back then, Leopold had said, "It's good if you feel guilty. Guilt means you can't leave me. You won't bear to leave me."
What had she felt then? She remembered now—she'd thought it was sweet.
But now, with a second answer to compare, she understood. When you truly cared for someone, you couldn't bear to burden them with responsibility and guilt.
"I think your mother's right. Maybe I really am a curse to you..."
Her tone was self-deprecating.
"No," Sebastian said. "You're not."
Words didn't seem adequate to explain. He gave the steering wheel a gentle turn.
"Let me take you somewhere."