Remington didn't opt for boiling water but instead warmed up a cup of milk for Lizetta.
He walked back into the living room, placing the warm cup between Lizetta's icy hands, his large palms covering her cold ones. "Take it slow."
The lights in the living room felt too soft to Lizetta, casting a gentle glow in the man's amber eyes, making them appear overly tender.
She averted her gaze, withdrawing her hands from his. "Thanks for tonight, but why are you here?" she asked, sipping the milk and looking up at him.
Remington had been hanging around downstairs every night for the past few days, sometimes leaving in the middle of the night, other times just sleeping in his car. No matter how late it was, he made it a point to visit; otherwise, he'd find it hard to sleep back at Oakridge Heights.
He was glad he came early today, but he had promised Lizetta he wouldn't bother her until Stella had left.
Changing the subject, he said, "You're sweating bullets. Let me get some water for you to wipe off."
He fetched a bowl of warm water and a warm towel, leaning in to wipe Lizetta's face for her. Lizetta had just put down her half-drunk milk.
"I'll do it myself," she said.
Remington paused, not insisting.
But just as Lizetta took the towel, her phone in her pocket began to ring. She thought she had calmed down, underestimating the terror of childhood traumas. Her hand shook, dropping the towel on the blanket like a startled bird.
Remington picked up the towel, held her in his arms, forcibly keeping her shoulders still, and gently wiped her face.
The warm towel soothed her tense skin, bringing a slight sting to Lizetta's nose.
"Aren't you going to answer that?" Remington asked as he wiped her hands. The ringtone continued; Lizetta finally snapped back to reality, fumbling for her phone.
It was Yolanda calling, but as Lizetta touched the screen, the call had just timed out, automatically hanging up. The phone unlocked itself with face recognition.
The screen was still on her conversation with Cedric, and as Lizetta's fingertips touched it, a video automatically played. A man's deep voice filled the living room. "Yes, I love her. We had many misunderstandings before..."
Remington paused, and so did Lizetta. She then frantically tried to stop the video. It was Cedric who had sent it, possibly at Remington's behest.
Why did she feel guilty? As if she was secretly spying on him, paying attention to him, when that wasn't the case!
But before Lizetta could regather her thoughts, the video stopped, plunging the living room into an even longer awkward silence.
Lizetta pursed her lips, about to say something, when Remington's chuckle broke the silence.
"When did you buy off Cedric? I had no idea."
Lizetta glared at him, irritated. "I didn't buy off Cedric! Whatever I do, whatever I say, whoever I'm with, I couldn't care less about you! Are you going to tell me this video wasn't sent by Cedric at your request?" Remington met her fiery gaze, finding her lively irritation refreshing. He truly wished she had influenced Cedric, but deep down, he knew it was wishful thinking.
Yet, he couldn't resist teasing her, his lips curving slightly.
"Of course not! But the way you're reacting does seem a bit like you're flustered after being caught. Liz, if you want to know whether I've met with Stella alone, you could just ask me. Or if you're hoping for a personal confession, I could..."
Lizetta didn't let him finish, snatching the towel and throwing it at his teasing face, coldly saying, "If not, then better keep your assistant in check!"
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