It was on the day Stella and Weston got their marriage certificate. Weston had treated Roger to a meal then, and his impeccable manners had left a good impression on Roger. Always the gentleman in front of others, Weston had seemed nothing but kind and considerate.
At that moment, however, Stella stood frozen, holding her breath as she stared at Roger. Why was Weston here? she wondered. He hadn’t answered her call earlier.
Roger, oblivious to the shift in Stella’s demeanor, waved excitedly at the door. “Brother-in-Law!” he called out, but Weston simply walked past without stopping.
Roger blinked in confusion, slowly lowering his arm.
“Sis, did Brother-in-Law get the wrong room?” he asked.
Before Stella could respond, Roger began to lift his blanket to get out of bed.
“He must’ve gone the wrong way,” he muttered. “I’ll go get him.”
Stella snapped back to her senses just in time. “Don’t go!” she urged quickly, panic rising in her voice.
Weston had brought up divorce earlier that morning, and she wasn’t sure if he was here for her sake. There was a chance they’d end up in a fight if Roger went over there without thinking.
Roger was fiercely protective of her, but he was also impulsive because of his age. Stella didn’t want him causing trouble, especially now that she had to ensure Roger’s medical bills were covered. She didn’t want anything jeopardizing that.
Roger furrowed his brow at her. “Sis, tell me the truth. Did you and Brother-in-Law have a fight?”
Stella’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, but she quickly recovered. “Stop overthinking things. We’re fine.”
Before he could press further, Stella stood up quickly, changing the subject.
“I’ll go ask the doctor if there’s anything we need to be mindful of. Stay here and rest.”
“Sis!” Roger protested, but the door clicked shut as Stella left, sealing his voice inside the room.
Stella exhaled slowly, allowing herself a moment of peace before turning to walk down the corridor.
Just as she was about to leave, her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure at the end of the hall. Weston.
He looked at her with his usual composed, dignified expression, but there was no warmth in his gaze—nothing but distance and calculation. After a beat, he walked toward her.
“Here to see Roger?” he asked, his voice low and even. He glanced at the ward’s tag as if confirming her presence there.
Stella nodded curtly, but her wariness grew when she noticed the examination sheet in his hand.
“Why are you here, Mr. Ford?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion. “Are you here for a checkup? Where do you feel unwell, Mr. Ford?”
“Mr. Ford?” Weston’s brow furrowed at the formality of the address.
It was the same way she had addressed him when they first got their marriage certificate. After they started living together, she’d hesitated and asked him sheepishly, “Mr. Ford… Could I call you something else? It feels distant for a married couple.”
He hadn’t minded the request, answering casually, “Call me whatever you like.”
But hearing her address him so formally again after all this time left him momentarily stunned. The change in her was unexpected, and a little unsettling.
Before he could respond, he remembered the divorce conversation from that morning. A small smirk tugged at his lips.
“Don’t you understand my body best?” he said, his voice low and teasing.
Stella froze, her mind racing as she processed his words. She remembered the same intense look he had given her in bed last night.
“Mr. Ford…” she murmured, her voice shaking slightly.
The flush that crept up her neck and stained her cheeks didn’t go unnoticed. Weston’s irritation, which had been simmering since their conversation earlier, faded just a little. There was something about her being so flustered, so unsure of herself—it was oddly satisfying.
To him, this was how she should be: a little dazed, a little awkward, and easily embarrassed.
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