"What's that supposed to mean?\"

\"You know, you don't have to go to city hall to get a divorce. If you want a divorce, get up and eat something decent!\"

Remington's voice was deep, his face expressionless.

He towered by the hospital bed, looking down at her, filled with self-mockery.

He never thought, one day, he would have to use divorce as a means to get her to eat.

Lizetta locked eyes with Remington, standing her ground.

For the first time today, she really looked at him, without disdain.

Remington's breath hitched, his back tensing involuntarily.

Yet, he couldn't discern any emotion from her gaze.

The affection, joy, and even the resentment he had just provoked seemed all gone.

He felt an emptiness inside, his lips moved slightly, \"I didn't mean to pressure you, but you're torturing yourself, your body can't take this...\" Since the accident, she hadn't eaten anything, surviving solely on IV nutrition.

This couldn't go on.

Lizetta's lips curled into a mocking smile, \"Your devotion is laughable.\"

a plaid tie,

looked just as cold and noble as Mr. Dashiell always did. Losing Daisy, for him,

why he thought she could eat

good, but it was just

What a cold-hearted man!

want. If you want a divorce, get up and eat.\" Remington's voice

to help her, then called someone in a

laying out a nutritious

Remington had consulted a

, coming up with a

as good as

her wrist weak,

from in front of her, and the next second, the

too weak, let

up, \"Looking at you

darkened instantly, the spoon tapping

locking

and turbulent, but

a moment, Remington stood up from the bed,

care of

soup bowl from Remington's hands. Lizetta didn't want to trouble the servant, and she also wanted to

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