Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

Though it wasn't a bustling tourist hotspot, the small town saw its fair share of visitors coming to stay and play from time to time.

Lizetta nodded in agreement, not giving it much thought.

As Dora went upstairs, Lizetta heard the doorbell ring.

She set down her glass of milk and walked over to the door, opening it.

Expecting to see Nolan, her eyes lit up with a smile, but instead, there stood a towering figure of a man.

Clad in a black leather jacket, cargo pants, and leather boots, he was wrapped up with a hat and scarf, his hands in leather gloves carrying a toolbox.

He even had goggles on, with only a bit of his jaw and mouth visible under a scruffy beard.

But there was something commanding and eerily familiar about his presence.

Lizetta's grip on the door handle weakened, and she took a couple of steps back, staring at the man.Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

It wasn't until he spoke in a local accent, "I'm here for the fireplace maintenance check," that she snapped out of it.

His voice was raspy and unfamiliar.

Lizetta blinked, her palms sweaty and her heart racing.

She gave the man another look, finding his height and build familiar.

However, he was slightly hunched, the beard hiding much of his face, and upon closer inspection, his leather jacket was stained with grease, his boots muddied.

And Remington, he was always so upright and had a bit of a cleanliness fetish, a stark contrast in demeanor.

This couldn't be him!

"Sure, please come in. The fireplace is right over there. It's been a bit smoky, thank you for looking into it."

Lizetta stepped aside, making way with a polite smile.

Dora had mentioned calling the fireplace service that morning.

Lizetta hadn't expected them to arrive so quickly, impressed by their efficiency.

The man walked past her, biting at the edge of his glove to pull it off.

His movements were rugged and unrestrained, revealing large, slightly darkened hands. He didn't carry the familiar scent of cedar but rather the cold fragrance of frost.

Lizetta found herself amused.

What was going on with her lately, mistaking everyone for Remington, even someone so different?

"The roads were rough today. I'll get you a cup of hot water."

"Thank you."

The man said, heading towards the fireplace without giving Lizetta another glance.

Meanwhile, Dora came down the stairs, gave the man a quick look, and found nothing unusual. She walked over to Lizetta.

"I'll do it."

Lizetta waved her off, "No worries, I could use the walk."

Dora then went on to clear the dining table and headed into the bedroom.

By the fireplace.

The man took off his goggles and bent down to open his toolbox, buf his gaze fixed on Lizetta, by the coffee table pour His look was intense, almost burning.

Last night, under the covers, her figure was hidden.

Now, standing there in a long white cashmere sweater, her slender limbs suddenly prominent bas wvel It was alarming how fragile she seemed, yet she appeared well-cared-for.

Her face seemed a bit fuller, her chest more filled out.

Her cheeks were rosy, her brows relaxed, and her eyes clear and tranquil.

The table and sofa were strewn with knitting projects, and a few pots flowers sat by the window. The lovel house felt cozy and comfortable.

She and her baby were well looked after.

It was reassuring yet simultaneously heart-wrenching and defeating for him

Realizing she might truly no longer need him, Remington guldn't feel the warmth of the house.

Instead, a cold deeper than the icy world outside enveloped him.

It made him freeze, forgetting to avert his gaze as Lizetta turned to e look at him.

Their eyes met, if only for a moment.