Book TRK
Chapter 1250
Lydia cradled the cup in her hands. The temperature was perfect, not too hot. It was clear that Quincy had clearly checked beforehand.
She glanced over at him and saw him peeling roasted chestnuts for her, and her heart instantly felt warm.
Lydia was sensitive to both heat and cold, and many people, including her own parents, had called her spoiled. But Quincy never complained. He always took care of her, quietly and willingly, without a word of protest. From the kitchen came the sounds of clattering pots and the rich aroma of stir-fried vegetables. Meanwhile, Lydia and Quincy exchanged light conversation in the living room.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .
The smile on Lydia's face revealed that it wasn't so much a conversation as it was Quincy trying to make her laugh and lift her spirits.
Watching from the kitchen, Mrs. Perez narrowed her eyes. The more she looked at Lydia, the more displeased she became.
"Look at him, fussing over her like that. I can hardly believe that's our son," she muttered, casting Lydia a quick, judgmental glance, careful not to be caught. "I don't know what kind of spell she's cast on him." "You're the one who invited her over," Mr. Perez replied, not looking to stir the pot.
"You know why I did!" Mrs. Perez snapped. "It's because of all those horrible things being said about her online. Have you seen it? It's disgusting."
Mr. Perez gave a noncommittal nod. After years of marriage, he had learned it was often best just to nod along. Arguments never led anywhere, and it was easier to let her vent.
Seeing her husband's indifference, Mrs. Perez's anger simmered but didn't fade. "No. I can't let this continue. Even if they're married, I'll find a way to make them separate. A woman with a reputation like hers doesn't deserve to be with our son." Dinner was finally served, and everyone sat down. Quincy chose a seat close to Lydia, so close it seemed awkward, almost in the way.
His mother couldn't help but ask, "Quincy, why are you sitting so close? You're blocking her."
Quincy, unfazed, casually placed a piece of stuffed eggplant on Lydia's plate. "This is how we sit at home, so I can give her food," he said, as if
it were the most normal thing in the
world.
Mrs. Perez fell silent, but the tension at the table was palpable. Lydia, sensing the awkwardness, gently tried to stop Quincy. "It's okay, I can get my own food."
But Quincy didn't listen, continuing to serve her. After a few more servings, Mrs. Perez finally snapped.
She set her utensils down with a sharp clatter, fixing her cold gaze on Lydia. "Lydia, is it? There's something I think we need to clear up."
Lydia froze, staring at Mrs. Perez's stern expression. The uneasy feeling she had since she arrived was now a full-blown alarm. What Mrs. Perez said next only confirmed her worst fears.
"You come from a wealthy family. We're just regular people. Honestly, this marriage feels like a mismatch," Mrs. Perez said, her voice cold. "Quincy told us you just got married recently, didn't he?
"Well, it's not too late. Since you haven't had children yet, I think you should get a divorce."
Quincy abruptly stood, his face suddenly void of warmth. "You never discussed this with me."
"Does it need to be discussed?" Mrs. Perez shot back. "You think your father and I don't know what's being said online? How can you stay with a woman like this, someone so indecent?"