Weston’s words echoed in Stella’s mind long after he had left. He was right—under her current circumstances, raising a child was simply impossible. The weight of caring for herself and Roger was already more than she could bear. Yet, deep down, there was an instinctual pull to keep the child. After discovering that another life was inside her, Stella couldn’t help but form some kind of connection with it.
Looking down at her flat stomach, a wave of disappointment washed over her. “I’m sorry that we’re not fated to be together,” she whispered softly to the child that could never be.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” she said, trying to compose herself.
The door opened to reveal a young female doctor, dressed in black-framed glasses. She was tall, slender, and her face, though slightly detached, softened as she gave a friendly smile.
“Are you feeling better?” the doctor asked.
Stella nodded, recognizing her as the doctor Weston had mentioned earlier. “Are you here to perform the checkup?”
“Yes,” the doctor replied as she moved to the balcony, pulling the curtains open. As the sunlight flooded the room, Stella instinctively closed her eyes, the harsh brightness contrasting with her inner turmoil. The doctor sat down beside her.
“My name is Zeta Taylor, but you can just call me Zeta,” she introduced herself. Stella nodded in acknowledgment, her quiet compliance raising Zeta’s curiosity. Yet, the doctor quickly seemed to understand and continued, “Mr. Ford might have already told you, but you’ll be undergoing an abortion procedure later. It’s a straightforward process, so there’s no need to feel too pressured.”
Stella’s fists clenched involuntarily, her fingers turning white from the tightness, but she forced herself to nod. “I understand,” she murmured.
Zeta watched her, her eyes sharp behind her glasses, but there was a flicker of understanding as she gently patted Stella’s hand. “It’s alright,” she reassured. “I know this is hard for you, but technology has advanced so much nowadays. You might still be able to have a child in the future.”
But her words did little to comfort Stella. Instead, they confused her.
“What do you mean? That I might still be able to have a child one day?” Stella asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.
Zeta paused before answering. “Didn’t Mr. Ford tell you? Your body isn’t suited for this abortion, and it’s possible you won’t be able to conceive again after this.”
The words hit Stella like a cold shock. It felt as though everything around her was suddenly cloaked in shadow. Despite the sunlight streaming in, her body felt cold, as though there was no warmth in the world. She barely registered the sound of approaching footsteps, but she knew who they belonged to without looking up.
“You’re here,” she said hoarsely, looking up at Weston as he stood beside her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she added, her voice quiet and strained.
Weston seemed unaffected, but she noticed the slight flicker of irritation in his eyes. She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to think about how much she had once hoped for something more. She wasn’t sure whether it was pride or shame that stopped her from turning away.
“The doctor says I might not be able to bear a child again if I go through with the abortion. Did you know about this?” she asked, her voice controlled but thick with emotion.
Weston’s expression hardened, his indifference clearly on display. “You called me here for this?” he asked, his tone flat. He walked over to the sofa, sitting down casually, as though nothing was amiss. The sunlight bathed him in a golden hue, highlighting his perfect features, but the air around him felt colder than it had ever been.
Stella’s anger simmered, but she kept her composure. “Don’t you think I have the right to know?” she asked, her voice tight with suppressed emotion.
“You know now,” Weston replied curtly, his words falling like stone in the silence.
Stella shook her head, the weight of it all crashing down on her. “But I didn’t know until someone else told me! If Dr. Taylor hadn’t mentioned it, I might have already gone through with it… I might never be able to have children again!” Her voice rose in frustration, the anger in her chest threatening to spill over. “And you… you’re just sitting there like it doesn’t matter!”
Weston’s eyes remained cold, his gaze unwavering as he observed her. “So?” he said, the indifference in his voice more cutting than any harsh words could have been.
Stella’s breath hitched as her tears welled up, but she fought to hold them back. She was already so close to losing control, but there was something inside her that still held on, something that refused to give in.
“I don’t need your pity,” she managed through gritted teeth. “I’ve already decided. Once this is over, once I get the divorce papers, I’ll disappear from your life. You won’t ever have to see me again. I won’t be a burden to you and Guinevere.”
Her words hung in the air, a mixture of pain and finality. Weston’s gaze softened ever so slightly as he took in her words. The expression on his face didn’t change, but there was a hint of something—guilt, perhaps?—that briefly flickered in his eyes before it was replaced by indifference once more.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Weston finally broke the silence, his voice low but steady. “Are you crying?”
Stella froze, her eyes widening slightly as the tears she had been holding back finally spilled over. Her nose and eyes were red, but she refused to meet his gaze, her face flushing with embarrassment. The realization that she was breaking down in front of him felt humiliating.
Weston stood up and moved toward her. He reached out and gently cupped her face with his hand. His touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the coldness in his voice.
“You’re clever, aren’t you?” His words were soft, but there was an edge to them that Stella couldn’t quite place.
She looked up at him, confused. The tears still shone in her eyes as she gazed back at him, but she couldn’t figure out what he meant. Her heart pounded in her chest, unsure of what was coming next.
Weston leaned down, lifting her chin with his other hand. His voice dropped to a whisper, his breath warm against her skin. “Did you think crying would change anything?”
Stella didn’t know how to respond. She could only stare at him, feeling vulnerable, exposed, and more confused than ever.
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