Lizetta simply couldn't take it anymore.
She had never intended to compete with Stella for anything. It was Stella who had intruded into her marriage.
Even so, she had stepped back at every turn, fleeing far from the chaos.
Yet the Wests wouldn't let her be, intent on hunting her down.
Absolutely malicious!
But Ray hadn't said much when he came over, and even she was guessing-had Remington already known it was the Wests doing?
Her eyes widened in shock, "You knew all along? Stella helped me flee the country, and as soon as I landed, the Wests had people searching for me..." Mentioning her escape, Remington's handsome face darkened.
"Otherwise, how do you think I found you?"
Lizetta's lips pursed, then she said with a hint of sarcasm.
"Well, that's quite the revelation. I thought even if I accused the Wests, given your fondness for them, you'd suspect me of slandering them."
A pang of pain hit Remington's heart, his expression turning gloomy.
What did he now represent in her eyes?
His chest heaved slightly, unable to contain his frustration any longer; he abruptly reached out, his hand clasping Lizetta's neck.
The sudden closeness made Lizetta's breath hitch, somewhat frightened by his brooding demeanor.
She tried to twist away, but his grip was unyielding.
He was in control.
All she could do was watch him draw nearer, breath becoming labored, thinking he was about to do something to her.
He stopped, just inches away, his voice cold.
"If I were as you say, I wouldn't be here right now. Liz, do you even care?"
His voice was thick with accusation and huskiness by the end.
His eyes met hers, emotions swirling, bloodshot-indicating he too hadn't had an easy time.
Lizetta bit her tongue, tasting bitterness.
If only she could be heartless, then she wouldn't keep hoping for someone, only to be let down time and again.
So, no matter what he said now, she couldn't let herself be swayed again.
She gently pushed against his shoulder, stating, "I'll come back with you, but on one condition."
A surge of joy lit up in Remington's heart, he released Lizetta, his expression brightening for the first time in a while. "Alright, I agree."
He didn't even wait to hear her condition before eagerly consenting.
Lizetta raised an eyebrow, "Aren't you going to ask what it is?"
"It doesn't matter. I agree."
Remington lightly tapped her pert nose with his finger.
Clearly, in his heart, nothing was more important than having his wife come home with him.
But the next second, he heard Lizetta's cool voice.
"My condition is a divorce."
Remington froze, his barely recovered heart, feeling the warmth of spring, was suddenly thrust back into the harsh winter by a brutal chill. His handsome face momentarily showed panic and desolation, wounded and pale.
But Lizetta didn't avert her gaze, looking at him steadfastly. Her fleeing the country was because he refused to divorce.
If he agreed now, why would she continue to live in exile? "Sounds like the police are here, I'll go check. You rest." Remington suddenly stood up and started towards the door.
Lizetta watched his retreating figure, her eyes lingering on his injured right shoulder. As his hand touched the doorknob, she finally spoke.
"Wait, let me take care of that wound for you."
Even if it were a stranger, she couldn't ignore someone hurt in her defense.
Moreover, with Remington's rare blood type, any delay in treating the wound could lead to serious blood loss. In a foreign land, that could be troublesome.
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