Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

The cleaning lady responded, and Lizetta turned off the water, dried her hands, and stepped out.

Days flew by in a blink, and on the eve of Lizetta's departure to Summer City, Remington's car once again stopped at the dance company's entrance.

Tall and distinguished, Remington stood by his car, cradling a bouquet of flowers in his arms.

They were roses, a refreshing shade of green, unique, understated, and elegant. They matched his demeanor perfectly. Lizetta recognized them instantly as the rare matcha forest roses.

She froze in place until Remington approached, offering her the roses with a voice as soft as the breeze.

"Here's your bouquet. Still mad at me?"

Taking the flowers, Lizetta felt a lump in her throat and a sting in her eyes. She lowered her head to smell them and then looked up at him, smiling gently.

"They're beautiful. The first flowers you've ever given me."

Remington saw she was happy, his lips relaxing into a relieved smile as he playfully tapped her head.

"Nonsense, I've given you flowers before, about twelve or thirteen years ago."

Lizetta paused, and then remembered.

talking about his high school days. Mr. Dashiell was the golden boy, talented and handsome, naturally attracting many

girls only dared to secretly

home, but occasionally, some would slip through to his bag, and sometimes,

would excitedly open and read aloud to Remington. And those secretly placed flowers, which he

started giving all those flowers to her, more than just one or

back, her smile grew more playful;

flowers. What's the difference?" Remington raised an

Did he give her those flowers back then because he

she didn't voice her thoughts, afraid to delve deeper. Instead, she clutched the

make up for the last unpleasant visit, today Remington had come to pick her

Lizetta settled into the

е

Heights, she couldn't help but ask him, "These flowers are quite special. Did

love, a

"Cedric recommended them."

noticing her evident joy and thought to himself that this year's bonus for

you like them, I can have the florist deliver a bunch to our

petals, shaking her head, "You really don't understand women. Getting them too often would take away the surprise." Remington, with a non-committal furrow of his