Remington was clueless about the turmoil inside Lizetta's heart. Seeing her relent and let go, a faint smile played on his lips, adding a touch of warmth to his usually reserved demeanor. He was gentle and meticulous in his movements, filling the room with nothing but the soft hum of the hairdryer.

Lizetta felt his fingertips gently weaving through her hair, occasionally massaging her scalp. It was comforting, familiar.

It brought back memories.

As a child, when Remington was in a good mood, a bit of pouting from her would have him drying her hair just like this.

But she did it for him more often than he did for her. He was always too impatient to dry his hair after a shower, and fearing he'd catch a cold, she would insist on drying it for him. Those warm, sweet memories felt both like honey and poison.

Catching a glimpse of him in the mirror, clad in a bathrobe, Lizetta realized she had overestimated herself.

She couldn't just pretend he was some random guy named Tony.

This kind of intimate atmosphere didn't suit them at all.

Her breathing grew uneven, and when Remington's fingertips accidentally brushed the skin behind her ear, she couldn't help but flinch.

The next second, the hairdryer was turned off.

The world seemed to fall silent, and Lizetta could hear her own heartbeat.

I'll go

Remington's hand pressed gently

"Why are you blushing?"

depth in Remington's gaze as he spoke, his hand moving as if to touch her flushed

abruptly. "Remington!

slightly, amused by her obviously flustered and

you can't even treat me

history. How can we move on separately?

voice was

of panic,

says I can't? Do I need to start dating someone else

dove and hate. But that doesn't mean

turned and walked

truly move on, marry someone else, and have children, can you

for a moment but didn't look

will wish

a thousand arrows, almost crushing the hairdryer in his

her with another man

she could wish

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