He snarled, snatching something up off the dresser on his side of the glass, and pitched it at her. It was largely ineffectual, though, and so he didn't bother trying again, instead balling his fingers into fists as his side, tongue darting out to trace over his lips.

"I know all of your buttons, Lydia -- I pushed every one. I made you think he saw you for what you truly are. I made you feel it." So, no, she wasn't supposed to have figured it out. This wasn't supposed to be happening.