Tea Parties and Feather Boas (Luke Kuechly)

Chapter Fifteen: Compass

•So let your heart, sweet heart
Be your compass when you're lost
And you should follow it wherever it may go•

As soon as Lawson set his eyes on Lydia, she knew there was no way in hell she would be able to avoid him. That ever arrogant smirk graced his face as he confidently strolled over to meet her at the bottom of the stairs. The woman had to admit, however, that he looked fine as wine in his perfectly tailored black suit. Regardless of their bad history, old feelings lingered in moments like this. How couldn't they when he looked like that?

"My dear wife, how stunning you look tonight," her old flame spoke smoothly.

"It's called legally separated, Lawson," Lydia replied hoping her voice held firm. She was melting like butter in a hot southern summer day over this Georgia boy's charm, and she knew that was a path to only be traveled once.

"You're still Mrs. Lydia Miller. I remind you."

"Thank you for recalling that nightmare for me," the woman rolled her eyes, shoving past him when she spotted a butler carrying a tray with champagne.

Alcohol. That was just what she needed in this moment. Not enough to make her fan new life to the dying embers in her heart that barely burned for her ex still, but just the right amount to relax.

Swiping a glass off the tray, she sighed in relief as she took a sip taking the edge off almost immediately. "Leave me alone, Lawson. Unless you're handing me signed divorce papers, I don't want to see you," here was that confidence boost she need. "No matter how hot you look in that suit," she added.

Damn it. There went her filter just long enough for that to slip. Had her alcohol tolerance really been reduced to a few sips of champagne?

Lydia could feel the smirk Lawson wore plastered to his faces. Despite the fact he walked away, she knew she would be seeing a lot more of her husband that night.

It was a tedious job trying to stay a suitable distance away from Lawson. Her conversations couldn't be to long, but Lydia also didn't want to seem to rude. The last thing she needed tonight was her mother scolding her lack of manner like a nine year old.

Around nine, Lydia slipped out onto the back porch for some fresh air. Although she didn't know it, she was spotted by the very person she was trying to avoid.

Leaning against the railing, the woman soaked in the peacefulness of the cool, dark night. She didn't mind the December chill to much. It had been an abnormally warm winter week, even for Georgia. The southern breeze whipped softly at her hair and dress sending shivers down her spine. This must be heaven on earth, Lydia thought to herself.

"It's a beautiful night. Almost as beautiful as you," the all to familiar voice of her husband spoke.

And here comes hell on earth, Lydia sighed a surge of anger boiling in her. "What are you doing out here?"

"I came to-"

"To what Lawson! We're over! I don't want you anymore! I didn't even want to marry you in the first place! I don't want to be your wife! Can't you get that through your thick skull!?" She exploded, overly stressed out about him and everything else in her life at the moment.

Lawson was caught off guard. She'd grown more assertive the past years. Surprisingly, he liked that. "Come on Lyddie, we had good times."

"Do you even remember what happened!? I lost a baby! Our baby! I was heartbroken! And where were you!? Off in the bed of some slut! I needed you! And you weren't there! You ruined us!"