Accidentally Yours, My Super Rich Second Husband-Chapter 176: Just Why

The Harrington estate basked in the soft glow of a summer afternoon, golden light pouring through the tall windows, illuminating the vast living room where two young girls played on the plush rug. Delphinia, barely ten, sat cross-legged, diligently working on a puzzle, her dark curls cascading over her shoulders. Beside her, Lyvia, was surrounded by colored pencils and an open sketchbook, her small fingers smudged with bright hues.

Delphinia glanced sideways at her sister’s drawing—a clumsy but vibrant depiction of a horse—and smiled. "That looks great, Lyvia. You’re getting really good at this."

Lyvia giggled, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. "Daddy says I’m the best artist he’s ever seen!"

The mention of their father made Delphinia’s smile waver for a second, but she quickly masked it. "He’s right. You’re amazing."

Just then, the heavy oak doors creaked open, and Robert Harrington strode in, his commanding presence filling the room. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, but his sharp features softened at the sight of Lyvia.

"Daddy!" Lyvia squealed, abandoning her sketchbook and running toward him. Robert bent slightly, catching her in his arms and lifting her with ease. His deep chuckle echoed through the room as he spun her around.

"There’s my little star," he said warmly, kissing Lyvia’s forehead.

Delphinia stood up, brushing imaginary dust from her dress, and approached with a shy smile. "Hi, Daddy."

Robert barely glanced at her. "Hello, Delphinia." His tone was polite but distant, lacking the warmth he’d shown Lyvia.

Delphinia kept her smile in place, though it faltered just slightly. She watched as her father gently cupped Lyvia’s cheek, his expression full of warmth and pride.

It must be nice... she thought to herself, a dull ache settling in her chest. To be held like that. To be kissed on the forehead without having to ask.

Once, when she was younger, she had asked for the same. She remembered tugging at her father’s sleeve, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. "Daddy, can I get a forehead kiss too?"

His reaction had been swift, his face darkening with disapproval. "Delphinia, you’re not a child anymore. You need to act more mature."

She had been seven.

From then on, she never asked again.

Now, standing there as her father doted on Lyvia, Delphinia simply folded her hands in front of her, schooling her expression into something calm, something that wouldn’t give away the bitter tangle of emotions inside her.

She wasn’t angry at Lyvia. It wasn’t Lyvia’s fault that their father adored her more. If anything, Delphinia knew she should be used to this by now. It wasn’t new. It wasn’t surprising.

Even so, she couldn’t help but wonder—just for a fleeting moment—what it would feel like to be cherished in the same way.

But she wasn’t foolish enough to hope. Not anymore.

Delphinia’s chest tightened, but she held her smile. "I finished the puzzle you gave me." She gestured toward the table, where the completed image lay.

Robert didn’t even look. "That’s good."

Lyvia tugged on his sleeve. "Daddy, look at my horse!"

Robert’s face lit up again as he set her down and crouched beside her drawing. "Now this is impressive. You’re so talented, Lyvia."

Delphinia’s throat felt dry as she stood there, ignored. She wanted to scream, to ask why her efforts never seemed enough. Instead, she sank back onto the rug, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the puzzle pieces.

"Can we go riding tomorrow, Daddy?" Lyvia asked, her eyes shining.

"Of course, sweetheart. Anything for you."

Delphinia bit her lip. She had asked to go riding last week and had been told Robert was too busy.

"Maybe Delphinia can come too?" Lyvia added innocently.

Robert hesitated, his jaw tightening for a brief second before he smiled again. "We’ll see, darling."

Delphinia’s heart sank. We’ll see—the words she had heard too many times before.

Later that evening, as the girls sat in the garden, Delphinia stared up at the sky, the soft chirping of crickets filling the air. Lyvia sat beside her, humming as she braided daisies into a chain.

"Delphinia?" Lyvia’s voice was soft.

"Yeah?"

"Why doesn’t Daddy smile at you like he does at me?"

Delphinia froze. She wasn’t sure if Lyvia meant to hurt her, but the words cut deep. "I... I don’t know."

Delphinia forced a small smile, though her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She wanted to believe that Lyvia didn’t mean anything by it. She wasn’t trying to be cruel. She was just... curious.

Lyvia doesn’t know any better.

Of course, she wouldn’t understand. She had never been on the receiving end of their father’s coldness. She had never been the one left standing in the shadows while someone else was bathed in his warmth.

Delphinia exhaled slowly, pushing down the sharp sting in her chest.

"It doesn’t really matter," she said, trying to sound indifferent. "Daddy is just... different with me."

Lyvia tilted her head, her brows furrowed in confusion. "But why?"

Why?

Delphinia had asked herself the same question for years. She had tried everything—being obedient, excelling in her studies, staying out of trouble—hoping that, one day, their father would look at her the way he looked at Lyvia. But nothing worked.

She had long stopped searching for an answer.

"I don’t know," she murmured, her voice quieter now.

Lyvia’s lips pressed together, as if she wasn’t satisfied with that response. But after a moment, she simply nodded.

Delphinia looked at her younger sister and felt a pang of guilt. Lyvia wasn’t to blame for any of this. She wasn’t cruel, nor was she purposely rubbing it in. She was just a child who had always been loved, trying to understand why things weren’t the same for her sister.

Delphinia wished she had an answer. But she didn’t. And maybe she never would.

Lyvia twisted the daisy chain in her hands. "I like when we’re all happy together."

Delphinia forced a smile, ruffling Lyvia’s hair. "Me too."

But inside, she made a promise to herself—that one day, she would be someone her father couldn’t ignore.