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 glanced 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."

little act, Lizetta playfully punched his chest,

already stepped into

her heart race, as she was

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

carried a plate of assorted fruits. She paused upon seeing them,

"Mr. Dashiell?"

hadn't

was she calling Remington "Mr. Dashiell"? Lizetta remembered Stella used to address

Remington questioningly, but he simply nodded towards

up with recognition upon seeing Lizetta. "It's you? We met before, in

a smile, "Yes, I never got the chance

that she was wearing a glove on her right

child's voice chimed from

strawberries; they're super

or five, holding a small bowl of strawberries, stepping out of the kitchen. She shyly

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