Lizetta and Jerome barely touched their dinner.


    Remington, on the other hand, seemed to have an endless appetite, devouring nearly everything on the table. After finishing thest bowl of stew, he ced his spoon down and dabbed his mouth with a napkin, turning to Jerome with a satisfied grin.


    "Thank you, Mr. Madden, for the meal. I don''t usually eat this much, but I guess I just couldn''t resist your cooking tonight," Remington said, attempting to sound gracious.


    Jerome forced a smile, but it didn''t reach his eyes.


    "Well, thank you, but I didn''t need the ttery."


    "The rain''s picking up, and it''s gettingte,” Jerome added, standing up abruptly. "Since you''ve finished, Mr. Dashiell, we won''t keep you any longer."


    Remington chuckled lightly and got up from his seat. "I''d feel better if I could help with the dishes, Mr. Madden. After such a delightful meal, it''s the least I can do.”


    Jerome''s tone turned icy. "Guests don''t wash dishes in the Madden household, Mr. Dashiell. Isn''t that right, Liz?"


    Jerome nced at Lizetta, who had long sincee to see him as family, like an elder brother in the absence of Nelson and Mrs. Bernice Madden, who were away in Zion City.


    She nodded immediately, grateful for the excuse to end the awkward dinner. “That''s right. We don''t have such traditions. I''ll take care of it. Let me see you to the door."


    Remington''s expression faltered when Lizetta sided with Jerome. He frowned slightly, about to protest, but Jerome cut him off.


    “Just leave them. The housekeeper will take care of everything in the morning.”


    With both of them insisting, Remington had no choice but to leave. Though he walked slowly savoring every moment, he soon found himself at the front door, with Lizetta trailing behind.


    He couldn''t shake off the thought of Lizetta and Jerome alone in the house after he


    left, and each step felt like walking on a tightrope.


    He had hoped for a moment alone with Lizetta, but Jerome was right there, a constant shadow.


    As they reached the entrance, Remington turned to Lizetta. "It''s raining outside. No need to walk me out. This is fine."


    He looked at her with hopeful eyes, wishing she''d ask him to stay a little longer, or better yet, invite him to spend the night.


    Remington silently cursed Jerome for being so perceptive. Earlier, he had tried to use a few drinks as an excuse to stay over, but Jerome had seen through his n, quickly removing the wine with a pointed reminder about drinking and driving.


    "Well, then, we won''t see you out,” Lizetta said with a casual wave,pletely oblivious to Remington''s longing gaze.


    The word "we" struck Remington like a dagger. Jerome had used it several times throughout the evening, and though it grated on him, he''d managed to endure it.


    But hearing it from Lizetta, so naturally and without a second thought, felt like an unexpected blow piercing him deeply and. leaving him with a tight, aching heart.