Lizetta stared blankly at the man before her, on the verge of surrendering for a moment, as she extended her hand to comfort him.
But she snapped back to reality, pushing him away forcefully, her brows furrowed. "It's different! Don't try to confuse me!"
She tried to turn away, but he wrapped his arms around her waist again, his eyes filled with helpless resignation. "How is it different, Liz? Don't be so hard on me."
Lizetta bit her lip, looking down. "My brother never hurt me!"
Her words didn't accuse him directly, but each one reminded him of the pain he had caused her. Like a series of soft needles, they pierced into Remington's heart, making his expression stiffen.
Lizetta continued, "Of course, if you think I'm being hypocritical, after we get divorced, you can just be my brother again. Considering how you used to take care of me, if you ever needed it, I'd take care of you, even if you were paralyzed."
Remington was speechless.
"Let go," Lizetta indicated.
Remington looked into her cold eyes and sighed deeply, reluctantly releasing his hold on her. But as she turned away, he couldn't bear it, pulling her back into his embrace, asking, "Liz, what do I need to do for you to forgive me?"
His voice was hoarse, filled with frustration and sorrow. Lately, he felt her being hot and cold, and just when he thought he had swayed her a little, she would retreat and become even colder towards him. This made him anxious, almost to the point of madness.
Lizetta felt a tightness in her chest. "Remington, maybe it's just your possessiveness. Because I was once your wife, carrying your child, you can't stand the thought of me being with another man after we divorce."
"Or maybe, you're just used to having me at the Dashiell family. No matter how far or cold you are, I'm always there when you come home, under your control. You're not used to losing that. Once I'm back in that place, you'll realize it's Stella you've known since childhood, she's the one you love..."
As Lizetta spoke, a self-mocking smile appeared on her lips. In fact, she had never truly believed that Remington loved her.
Listening to her sarcastic words, Remington's chest heaved, struggling for breath. He let go of Lizetta, pulling at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes reddened, staring at her, grating out, "It's like karma. I didn't believe you loved me and hurt you. Now, you're doing the same to me. What do I have to do for you to believe I love you? Do I need to tear my heart out for you to see?"
He grabbed Lizetta's hand forcefully, placing it over his heart. Her fingertips felt his chaotic heartbeat, pounding fiercely, like a blaze of fire and anger.
Lizetta curled her fingers, avoiding his gaze. But Remington held her face, forcing her to look at him, his voice hoarse again. "I've known Stella for eleven years, but I don't remember much before I was four, so it's more like six or seven years of memories. Why don't you calculate how long I've known you..."
Lizetta felt his palm burning hot, his gaze scorching, almost searing through her. She shook her head vigorously, struggling. "This is pointless. I won't do it!"
"Then let me do the math for you. I held you since you were born, you even peed on me, marking me back then."
Lizetta didn't want to listen to this nonsense, but he continued, oblivious to her wide-eyed stare. "Before you were five, every time Granny Rachel and my grandma met, they'd bring you along. You might not remember, but back then, you were most attached to me at the Dashiell family. The first person you learned to call wasn't 'mom' or 'dad,' it was 'brother.""
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