Lizetta must’ve been really beat, cause she took another nap in the afternoon.
When she woke up, there was a killer sunset outside the window, sshing the floor with all sorts of
vibrant colors
Lizetta headed downstairs and Edith greeted her with a chuckle.
Mrs. Dashiell, you tide you over?”
must be starving, Mr. Dashiell ain’t back yet. How about a little dessert or something to
Being cooped up, Lizetta did nothing but eat and sleep, she felt like Remington was fattening her pig
for the ughter.
She wasn’t feeling peckish, shook her head and asked, “Did he say when he’d be back?”
After a day to simmer down, Lizetta had chilled out quite a bit.
She figured she’d have a real talk with Remington when he got back.
???
like a
Edith shook her head, “No call from Mr. Dashiell. Want me to pass you the phone so you can give him
a nudge? He’d probably be thrilled.”
As Edith went to get the phone, Lizetta quickly waved it off.Property belongs to N?vel(D)r/ama.Org.
“Nah, don’t bother, I’m not waiting on him. It’s his call toe back or not.”
She didn’t want to be the one chasing him with calls.
Thinking back, Lizetta remembered all the times she had cooked dinner and waited for Remington at
home, calling to nag and ask when he’d be back. How often had those calls gone unanswered? Many
times, she had to ring Cedric.
And the answer was always the same: Remington was busy, couldn’t make it back.
Lizetta plopped down on the living room sofa and started flipping through TV channels out of boredom.
The twilight sky was slowly swallowed by darkness, and one by one, the garden lights came on
outside.
Still no sound of a car pulling in.
Getting hungry, Lizetta stood up and told Edith to get dinner ready.
Edith hesitated, “Mrs. Dashiell, maybe you should wait for Mr. Dashiell a bit longer, or I could give him
at call.”
Lizetta’s eyes went icy as she headed for the dining room.
“So what, if he doesn’te back, I don’t get to eat?”
“Oh no, it’s just that Mr. Dashiell said he would be back, he’s sure to return,” Edith quickly gestured,
trying to exin.
But Lizetta’s expression turned even colder; Edith got the hint that Lizetta had been stood up again.
Without another word, Edith silently instructed the servants to prepare the meal.
Remington didn’t return, but Lizetta’s appetite wasn’t dampened; she ate quite a bit.
10:17
After dinner, she took a couple of strolls around the garden with the servants to digest, then changed
into her dance gear and practiced the basics for an hour in the dance studio.
Then she went back to her room to wash up and hit the sack.
The next day. Lizetta woke up and instinctively reached out to the spot beside her.
It was cold as ice, empty as could be.
Laughable, really.
The man who promised toe back, to make amends, to fulfill his husbandly duties, locked her up
here, and then didn’te home all night.
What’s funnier was that she couldn’t keep her cool.
No matter how calm and indifferent she seemed, her heart still felt the cold spread into a wave of loss
and pain.
Lizettay back down, slowly withdrew her hand, curled up, and closed her eyes again.
She couldn’t help wondering if Remington had gone to Evelina again.
Suddenly, there were footsteps outside.
They were quick, definitely the sound of dress shoes on the floor, and they approached her bedroom
door fast.
The door swung open, and a fire ignited in Lizetta’s chest.
With gritted teeth, she spat, “I just cursed you in my dreamsst night, how can you still be back? Tell
me, why’d you confiscate my phone? Afraid the crematorium would call to ask how well–done you
are?” After her outburst, no reply came. In a fit of rage, she grabbed a pillow and, without looking,
hurled it towards the doorway.
“Mrs. Dashiell, it’s me.”
The pillow hit someone, but it wasn’t Remington.
Cedric stood at the door, bewildered for a moment before he caught on.
Holy smokes, Mrs. Dashiell was basically cursing Mr. Dashiell, wondering why he hadn’t kicked the
bucket.
yet.
But the thing was, Remington really was in deep trouble – rushed to the ICU and all.