He hurried upstairs, his steps quick with concern, and pushed open the bedroom door.

But the bed was empty, no sign of Lizetta. His expression shifted to one of worry and confusion. "Liz?"

He strode into the room, pushing the bathroom door open with urgency, but it was empty too.

"Liz! Lizetta!"

Just as Remington was about to call out for help, his gaze swept toward the balcony and he froze in his tracks.

There, standing on the balcony with a delicate silhouette, was Lizetta. She must have heard his frantic calls, but she didn't turn around or respond.

With a tight jaw, Remington quickly stepped outside.

"You're supposed to be in postpartum recovery, you shouldn't be out here in the cold."

His voice was deep and concerned as he rushed over and scooped Lizetta into his arms.

She felt lighter than ever, as fragile as a willow fluff in his embrace.

Lizetta let herself be carried back to bed and tucked in without a word.

"Don't run off like that again!" Remington frowned, his worry evident.

Only then did Lizetta look at him. "What's next? You're going to lock me in?"

thin smile played on Remington's lips.

response was a

you answer me when I called out?" he asked, unable to bear

jump off the balcony?" Lizetta's tone

him, her gaze playful yet

temples. "Lizetta, why does every word from you have to be so sharp?" "You could let me go and find

drifted to the sleeve

Remington saw a smear of red on

Lipstick.

YOUR

been from when he brushed past Stella earlier at the

a rush of panic, he quickly tried to explain. "Liz, I didn't

cut him off. "You're free to meet whoever you want, Remington. I just want to know,

seeing the

to be so jealous of Stella but now, it seemed she genuinely wished he'd find someone else to free her from whatever

taste spread throughout his mouth, as if he had swallowed a bitter

he replied,

a sound devoid of joy. "If you do find something, will you tell me right

tone was the calmest

He nodded. "Yes."

anything

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