NovelAppLizetta stared at him, his appearance was actually quite a mess.
Mr. Dashiell, who had always been dignified, aloof, and composed, now had his shirt all wrinkled, hair slightly disheveled, eyes bloodshot, stubble on his chin, and his neck and cheek bore several scratch marks...
Lizetta thought, he must be suffering too, full of regret and sorrow.
But looking at him like this, she felt nothing, absolutely nothing.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHer gaze was empty as she looked at him, and it took her a while before she finally spoke in a hoarse voice. "Hate you? I guess I should, but... how am I any better than you? I'm the one who's truly at fault." Lizetta lowered her head, her hands resting on her now empty belly, fingers slowly intertwining tightly.
In her dazed state, she heard faint talking and knew that Thaddeus was safe.
The calls with Zoey and the hospital were just Hans's tricks to lead her on.
Remington had also arranged for bodyguards to protect her. Without Dean and Bess's help, she couldn't imagine what her situation would be like now.
So, what right did she have to hate anyone? She should hate herself more, for being so foolish! She had promised to protect her baby but had failed miserably, putting her child in danger.
She had failed to protect her own child, she was a failure as a mother! Hearing her say this, Remington's guilt, regret, and pain didn't lessen at all, if anything, it felt like salt was being rubbed into his wounds.
His expression changed slightly, and he suddenly pulled her hands out from under the blanket.
Seeing her fingers scratched and bloodied by her own doing, his expression darkened.
"Lizetta, what are you doing! Look at me!" He held her face, his eyes red and intense.
"You've done nothing wrong, the fault lies with those who do evil! You should hate me, it'swho failed to protect you and our child, it'swho wasn't there when you neededthe most!" Remington was extremely worried. Childbirth was dangerous enough, and Lizetta had suffered such a heavy blow.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmThe doctors said any more emotional turmoil could be too much for her body to handle, but he was even more worried that her self-bland repression could lead to postpartum depression. He would rather she direct her bitterness towards him, hate him, than blherself.
And he, indeed, was to be hated, deserved the hate! Lizetta looked at him blankly, her eyes filled with a desolate silence.
"What's the use of hating you? Can hating you bring back my Daisyy?" Love and hate, none of it mattered to her anymore.
Remington's hands trembled slightly as he held her cheeks, looking into her eyes that no longer held a trace of him.
"Liz, do you not want to seeanymore?" Lizetta gazed into his bloodshot, emotionally turbulent eyes, no longer wanting to discern the emotions within.
Her lips, devoid of any color, moved
slightly. "Yes, seeing you remindsof my Daisyy, remindsofeverything from last night, femindsof my and Daisyy's painful struggle while you were with another woman giving birth..."
Lizetta raised her hand, pulling away Remington's hands from her cheeks, and lay back on the hospital bed, closing her eyes. Slowly, she lifted a corner of her mouth in a self-mocking smile, adding, "Remington, do you know? had ever forgiven you before, believing in your words about starting over. I was thinking, maybe this time, we could be happy..." Lizetta's voice choked up, and after a moment, she let out a hoarse, desolate laugh, "Ha, ha..."
Remington stood in front of the hospital bed, looking at the woman lying there as if she had lost her life, her soul, clenching his fists, his eyes red and unsteady. He had sensed it before, her softening towards him, her acceptance of the people he arranged to be around her. Bess's daily contact with him, she must have known, must have given her silent consent.
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