Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

What’s that supposed to mean?” The man’s breath was practically drilling into her ears, leaving Lizetta’s head all muddled.

Blind much? Figure it out yourself,” Remington snapped, shoving Lizetta away.

Lizetta stumbled, nearly taking a spill. She shot Remington a glance, “I’m going to get the -medicine.”

She quickly brought over some warm water and meds, helping Remington sit up.

“Did you take the fever reducer?”

Remington nodded slightly.

Since he couldn’t take another fever reducer so soon, Lizetta picked it out, watched as he swallowed the anti–inflammatory pills, and then felt his forehead again.

“How come you’re still burning up after the fever meds?”

Remington’s eyes drooped, silent. He hadn’t taken any medicine; he was just putting on an act because he was worried that if the fever went down, she would take off again.

“Just lie down, I’ll get you an ice pack to cool off.”

As Lizetta tried to get up, Remington caught her wrist. With a tug, she toppled onto the bed, ending up in his arms.

His forehead pressed against the back of her neck, his arms wrapped around her waist, he spoke in a soothing tone.

“No need. You’ve got a cold heart and á colder touch, which is just as good for cooling down. Let’s just sleep like this for a bit.”

She did tend to run cold; even in the summer her skin was cooler than most. As kids, whenever Remington got sick with a fever, he’d grab her hand to use as a cool touch.

And in winter, Lizetta liked to snuggle into Remington’s arms. He ran hot, better than a hot water bottle. Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

She lay there quietly; time seemed to stretch out, calm and peaceful. At the thought of what he’d just said, Lizetta’s mind flashed back to the danger in the hospital, the gleam of the sharp knife she’d closed her eyes to.

She asked softly, “You took that knife for me, didn’t you?”

She held her breath, waiting, and after a while, a proud snort came from behind her, “Mm–hmm.”

Lizetta’s heart felt lighter, a smile creeping onto her lips. The situation back then was

chaotic. She hadn’t expected Evelina, that scheming witch, to spout such nonsense right In front of Remington.

So, you realize you’ve been a thankless wretch, and you’ve got nothing to say for it?”

She kept quiet for a moment, and Remington’s lips moved slightly. His lips brushed against her neck, a mix of ticklish and tantalizing; Lizetta felt her body heated up.

She bit her lip, resisting the tingling in her heart.

“But you were with Evelina for her birthday, showering her with gifts.”

She cut herself off, biting her tongue. Too much frustration, jealousy felt like a waste of energy, and saying such things aloud made her feel ashamed.

Remington’s voice carried a hint of helplessness.

“What did I give her? Didn’t I come home to be with you that day? You’re young but already forgetful, can’t even remember where the gift is?”

Lizetta froze, then something clicked, and she tried to get up to check. But Remington tightened his grip, holding her close as if to meld her into his chest.

“Stay still, the gift isn’t going anywhere. Just stay with me; I’m in pain.”

Tears welled up in Lizetta’s eyes. So, he had prepared a gift for her too; it wasn’t all about Evelina.

Her heart fluttered with a mix of joy and sweetness, but then the thought of Evelina being pregnant turned all that sweetness bitter again.

She choked up, taking a moment before speaking.

“I know you don’t love me, that you married me out of obligation. So these past two years, I’ve tolerated being neglected and aggrieved, swallowed the bitterness, and never complained. We could divorce, but you shouldn’t have trampled over our already broken marriage by cheating, making me a laughing stock!”

She waited for Remington’s response, still clinging to a sliver of hope. She hoped he would tell her himself that Evelina’s child wasn’t his,

But there was only silence from behind her. Not a word from him. Lizetta’s tears fell. After a long while, feeling cold inside, she pried his hands off and sat up, only to find Remington had fallen asleep.

Whether he hadn’t heard her or had nothing to say, she couldn’t tell. Lizetta was exhausted and didn’t want to delve further.

She tucked him in and left the bedroom for the third–floor activity room. Pushing open the door, she was greeted by a huge claw machine.

It was many years old, its colors no longer bright, and it seemed out of place with the