Chapter 33
Evelina looked all woebegone as she stepped forward.
Liz, are you still ticked off about what happened last time? I’m sorry, okay? It was my pregnancy messing with my appetite, and me being all weak and hypoglycemic that made me fall and Remi thought you pushed me. He’s just super protective of the baby. Liz, I’m seriously saying sorry here. Can you forgive me?”
She was skinny as a rail, with a plain face and features that weren’t anything to write home about individually, but together, they kinda worked–in a lost–little–lamb sorta way, especially with that pure, innocent look plastered on her face.
Right then, she was the picture of sincerity, which made it hard for anyone to give her a hard time. But Lizetta? She saw right through it, seeing nothing but bad news.
She couldn’t stand Evelina pulling that act, as she still remembered their first meeting clear as day.
Evelina had been led into the Hawthorne family’s living room by Elara, where she had gone straight for Lizetta with a hug, then quickly let go, all jittery, apologizing.
“Liz, I’m so sorry, did I get your dress dirty? I swear it wasn’t on purpose.”
Before Lizetta even got a grip on what was going on, Elara, all heartache and worry, scooped Evelina up and glared at her.
“Mommy, who’s this?”
Little Lizetta didn’t get why her mom was cuddling some other kid, and just asked, but Evelina freaked out like a startled deer.
“Does Liz not like me? I’m sorry, I’ll just go.”
Elara had whisked Evelina away, and turned sharply to Lizetta: “Don’t call me mom anymore, I’m not your mother!”
Years had passed, and Evelina hadn’t changed a bit.
Lizetta quirked a lip, “Fine, take a bow then.”
Evelina was stunned, and Lizetta was dripping with sarcasm.
“You’re the one making a big show of apologizing. I’d be letting you down if I didn’t let you take a bow to match your earnestness.”
As if Evelina would go for that.
With tears brimming, she turned with a pleading look to Remington.
Lizetta followed her gaze, and her clear eyes landed on Remington.
10.12 M
There he was, with that deep, unfathomable look. Lizetta was wearing a daffodil–yellow dress that day, with her hair casually clipped up, and a couple of strands falling softly beside her face, making her skin look even more charming.
As she sat next to Hogan, her dress swayed and brushed against his sult pants, and she looked every bit the docile wife.
This woman, who had bolted from home for eight days, not to mention hopping on some random dude’s motorcycle that night, was now delivering love–packed lunches to another
man.
Remington noticed a dish of sweet and sour crispy eggplant in the lunch box–a dish that’s simple, but a real hassle to make. She really went all out.
His already icy demeanor seemed to drop a few more degrees.
“That day was my misunderstanding, and it had nothing to do with Evelina! Since you slapped her, you’ve blew off some steam; don’t be someone who can’t let things go.”
Lizetta’s heart squeezed. She didn’t know what she was expecting; why would she think Remington gotta be any different from Elara back then.
Pfft.
Before Lizetta could respond, Hogan stood up and spoke.
“Mr. Dashiell, you’ve got it wrong. If someone without a leg to stand on still tries to argue their case, why should someone in the right have to let it slide?”
Their gazes clashed across the room, almost like a standoff with blades drawn.
Remington’s thin lips quirked slightly, “Dr. White, that ain’t right either. What matters between spouses isn’t about being right or wrong; it’s about caring for each other. Liz, come here.”
He turned his gaze to Lizetta and beckoned her with his hand.
Staring at his outstretched palm, Lizetta felt her heart was being squeezed.
He said what mattered was caring for each other, but did he even care about her?
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