Chapter 4

Bridgette let out a long sigh. She was sitting in front of the mirror, getting ready for the upcoming auction party. She was wearing their most expensive gown designated for the auction.

She should be happy, but why did she feel this strange sense of unease? She released another sigh and looked into the mirror.

She applied tan lipstick to her lips; she was in no mood to wear red.

Once finished with her makeup, she stood up and checked her reflection in the full-length mirror in her room.

She looked stunning and very elegant in her black gown. It was modest in the front, but the back was almost completely exposed. She smiled and put on her earrings.

Satisfied with her look, she reached for her purse and stepped out of the room.

She found Lyndon in their living room, looking dashing in a suit. It was no surprise he was a model—his posture and demeanor alone made it clear he was extraordinary.

He turned toward her as he sensed her presence.

She caught the clear look of astonishment on his face, causing her to smile and gently shake her head.

"Starstruck, huh?" she asked playfully.

Seemingly snapping back to reality, he stood up from his seat.

"Yeah, you look really lovely tonight, darling," he said with a smile, eyeing her from head to toe.

She simply smiled in response. "Let's go?"

He smiled back and offered his hand, which she immediately took.

She turned to Trisha. "Could you keep Zion company for a bit?"

Trisha responded with a simple nod and a smile.

"What's wrong?" Bridgette asked her sister, noticing her expression.

Her sister shook her head and chuckled softly. "You're just so beautiful, Ate, I'm jealous," she said playfully.

Contagious laughter broke out, and Bridgette shook her head. "Crazy," she muttered, and walked on.

Lyndon opened the car door for her. "Thanks."

He quickly moved around to the driver's seat and started the engine.

↭♥↭

They were greeted by a brightly lit lawn filled with gorgeous flowers, tables and chairs set in the center, a buffet on the left side, and a bar on the right. In the middle stood a stage.

As they entered, numerous eyes greeted them, along with flashing cameras capturing images of her and Lyndon.

Naturally, the media swarmed them, as they were two of the most famous models in the US, both modeling for a well-known brand like Chanel.

All they did was smile continuously until, after a few minutes, Lyndon excused them from the media. After all, they had taken plenty of shots already, which seemed more than enough.

They headed straight toward the seating area to find a place to sit. As she scanned her surroundings, her eyes inadvertently drifted toward the bar section.

Their eyes locked; the man stopped drinking mid-sip and stared back at her.

Why is he here?

As much as she wanted to look away, she couldn't. He just stared at her, and she did the same. She couldn't stop herself from staring at him. He was also in a suit, likely an invitee to the auction.

Why did we have to meet again?

A sudden wave of anxiety hit her; so that was the strange feeling she had been having earlier.

This was it.

She saw him excuse himself from the person he was talking to and begin walking in her direction.

Panic immediately set in. Even her hands began to tremble.

She remained frozen, watching him approach. It felt as though his steps toward her were moving in slow motion.

He is still handsome, just like before...

She was torn between running or walking away to avoid being caught by him, but her feet lacked the strength to take a single step.

He was only a few paces away when she felt someone pull her by the hand, causing her to turn around.

It was Lyndon.

"Let's go over there," he said, pointing to a vacant table near the front of the stage.

She breathed a massive sigh of relief. Thank goodness Lyndon arrived; she truly had no idea what to do.

"What's wrong?" he asked with concern once they were seated.

She merely gave a slight shake of her head and smiled. Though she wanted to turn around to see if the man had followed her, she restrained herself.

This was precisely why she avoided returning to the Philippines—to prevent their paths from crossing again.

"Are you sure?" he pressed further, holding her trembling hands. "Your hands are trembling. Are you really okay? Tell me if you're not—"

"I'm okay, don't worry. I'm just a bit nervous," she said, offering a smile to convince him.

He released a deep sigh and kissed her on the forehead.

A sudden wave of guilt washed over her. How could she tell him that she had just seen her child's father?

She was terrified—terrified that if he found out a child resulted from their one night together, he might take her child away from her.

Another fear was that he might refuse to acknowledge the child or deny being the father altogether, which was why she never pursued him—even though she knew his name and where he lived.

"I just need to go to the bathroom," Lyndon excused himself. She simply nodded in response.

Once he left, she raised her head. She could feel someone watching her. Even without looking, she knew he was staring at her.

She scanned her surroundings and proved herself right: he was indeed staring intently at her. As their eyes met once more, an inexplicable emotion swept through her.

She could clearly see the stern, hardened expression on his face.

Why? Why does he seem angry?

Why, after all this time, does he still remember me? Wasn't he drunk that night?

She closed her eyes as memories of the past came rushing back.