From His Invisible Wife to the World's Icon novel Chapter 67

She had overthought it.

Why would he ever show up? In his mind, literally everything else was more important than her.

Lydia took the flowers and handed them to her mother.

Madeline was in high spirits and even complimented him. "The flowers are gorgeous. Please thank Mr. Foster for me."

"You can head back now, we have enough people here," she told Caleb.

Caleb nodded respectfully and left.

As Lydia pushed her mother's wheelchair out of the hospital, Madeline suddenly asked, "What happened to your hand?"

"Oh, I accidentally cut myself chopping vegetables."

Thankfully, she had used concealer patches to hide the bruises on her face, so her mother hadn't noticed.

"I keep telling you, you're just not cut out to be a housewife. Don't you have Gable for this? Let her do the cooking and cleaning. There are other ways to show your husband you love him without slaving away in the kitchen and doing laundry." Madeline sounded exasperated, but every word she spoke carried a desperate hope that Lydia and Frederick would work things out.

Lydia stayed silent. She didn't want to lie to her, but she had no idea how to explain that she was dead set on a divorce.

She would just wait until the papers were signed to drop the news.

Madeline was moving in with Julian. He lived in a faculty housing complex assigned to him by the university years ago—a small, two-story house with a yard. The square footage wasn't huge, and the neighborhood was old, but the location was prime, making daily life incredibly convenient.

After arranging for a nurse to start coming the next day, Lydia needed to head over to the charity foundation, so she left early.

She arrived at the banquet hall on the second floor of a luxury hotel owned by The Foster Group.

"Ms. Sterling, let me take you to the dressing room to change," Alice hurried over to greet her.

After Lydia stepped down, Alice had become the assistant to the new chairwoman.

"Thank you, Alice."

"Where are you working now, Ms. Sterling? I'd love to come work for you."

"Why? Is Mrs. Yates treating you badly?"

"No, it's not that. It's just that some of the socialites don't really respect Mrs. Yates, so getting things done has been a nightmare," Alice admitted, looking stressed.

"I'm working at a research institute now, so I don't really need an assistant."

"But if you ever need a favor, you can always call me."

Alice nodded, looking at her with genuine admiration. "You're so amazing, Ms. Sterling."

Lydia offered a warm smile.

As night fell, the banquet hall dazzled with crystal lights.

When Frederick walked in with Sierra on his arm, the first thing Sierra saw was Lydia bustling through the crowd.

Then she spotted Xavier walking in, tall, impeccably dressed, and surrounded by a swarm of sycophants.

Not wanting to be misunderstood again, she decided to just avoid him completely.

"You must be exhausted, Ms. Sterling." Alice walked over, handing her a glass of orange juice—her absolute favorite.

"Thank you." She took it and drank more than half.

"Why don't you head upstairs and rest for a bit?"

"Alright."

Since these galas always had unexpected issues, the hotel had prepared a presidential suite upstairs for the organizers to use.

Lydia had zero desire to watch Frederick and Sierra act like a devoted couple. After all the chaos of the previous night and nearly drowning that morning, her body genuinely needed the break. She took the keycard from Alice and headed for the elevator, planning to rest for a while before coming back down to help.

She took the elevator up to the top floor, following the room number on the card.

As soon as she stepped out of the elevator, a strange fogginess clouded her mind.

Why did she feel like she had taken a sleeping pill?

Squinting at the blurry numbers on the card, she finally found the presidential suite and swiped the lock.

The door beeped, and she pushed it open.