Lizetta had always been a bit of a homebody, but finding herself in this situation while out and about


    was a whole different story. She felt a twinge of embarrassment as Remington nced down at her


    with a stern look.


    "Behave," he said, quickening his pace.


    Lizetta couldn''t help but gaze up at the sharp, defined jawline of the man before her; curiosity started to


    get the better of her.


    "Is this really appropriate for you to meet your childhood friend like this, holding me in your arms?"


    Remington, catching the hint of jealousy in her voice, looked down with a slight smirk, and stopped in


    his tracks.


    "You''re right, maybe you should get down."


    Before he could finish his sentence, she instinctively tightened her grip around his neck.


    He let out a light chuckle, amused by her actions.


    "You said one thing but wanted another."


    Caught in her little act, Lizetta yfully punched his chest, with her cheeks flushed a pale pink.


    By then, they had already stepped into the vi.


    Lizetta felt her heart race, as she was a bit anxious about the encounter.


    Looking around the living room, she expected some changes which may indicate someone lived there.


    However, everything was just as she had left it, as if untouched by time. Suddenly, footsteps


    approached from the kitchen, and a figure emerged.


    Lizetta turned to see Ste, who carried a te of assorted fruits. She paused upon seeing them, then


    offered a slightly awkward smile of surprise.


    "Mr. Dashiell?"


    Clearly, she hadn''t been expecting them.


    And why was she calling Remington "Mr. Dashiell"? Lizetta remembered Ste used to address him


    more intimately.


    Lizetta nced at Remington questioningly, but he simply nodded towards Ste and introduced


    Lizetta as his wife.


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    Ste''s eyes lit up with recognition upon seeing Lizetta. "It''s you? We met before, in the restroom of


    that diner, you burned your hand."


    Lizetta nodded with a smile, "Yes, I never got the chance to properly thank you."


    "No need, no need." Ste waved her off, but Lizetta noticed that she was wearing a glove on her right


    hand, which struck her as odd.


    Just then, a child''s voice chimed from the kitchen.


    "Mom, I''ve washed the strawberries; they''re super clean now."


    Lizetta turned in surprise to see a little girl, about four or five, holding a small bowl of strawberries,


    stepping out of the kitchen. She shyly hid behind her mother, then curiously peeked at Lizetta and


    Remington. Ste gently told her, "Dorothy, say hi to the guests."


    The little girl nced at Remington and softly said, "morning, sir."


    Then, looking more confidently at Lizetta, she blinked her big eyes and said, "Did you hurt your leg?


    Don''t be sad, Dorothy will give you a strawberry."


    Standing on her tiptoes, she offered Lizetta arge, ripe strawberry.


    Lizetta was still processing the surprising turn of events. Ste was married with a child?


    She gratefully epted the strawberry from Dorothy. "Thank you, Dorothy, this looks delicious. You''re


    so sweet."


    Dorothy, sensing Remington''s disapproval, retreated behind her mother.


    Ste gently suggested, "Dorothy, why don''t you go y with your toys over there?"


    Once the child scampered off, Remington, still holding Lizetta, settled on the sofa and gestured for


    Ste to sit. "Take a seat. Let''s catch up on what''s been going on with us."