Stella stood frozen, her eyes swollen and red, as she waited for Weston to speak. She needed an explanation, needed him to give her some kind of answer. But Weston merely glanced at her briefly, then turned away, his expression unreadable.
“Let’s go,” he said softly to Guinevere.
Guinevere smiled and shrugged, casting a quick, almost pitying look at Stella before following Weston.
Stella watched them leave, rooted to the spot. Her heart ached as tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back in vain. She had wanted to rush forward, to demand an explanation, to scream at him. But she couldn’t move. It was as if roots had sprouted beneath her feet, anchoring her in place.
Guinevere was six months pregnant. They had been married for six months. That meant Weston had gotten Guinevere pregnant shortly after they tied the knot.
Did that mean he had been seeing her during their marriage? Did he come home to her after being with Guinevere? Had he kissed Guinevere, then come back to her, pretending nothing had happened? The thought made Stella’s body tremble.
She suddenly felt nauseous, her stomach twisting painfully at the images forming in her mind. She quickly covered her mouth, bent over, and rushed to the washroom, desperate to clear her head.
Splashing cold water on her face, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her bare, plain face seemed to mock her. Was she so ordinary? Would others find her unremarkable, too?
A bitter laugh escaped her as she finally steadied her breathing, trying to calm herself. Slowly, her heart rate evened out, but the pain lingered. She had regained composure, but it wasn’t enough to make the hurt go away.
Just as she was turning to leave, she froze.
Weston stood in the doorway, dark eyes locked on hers. He had been standing there for who knows how long, watching her without a word. His figure blocked the light, casting shadows over his strikingly handsome features. The man was still breathtaking—his face as captivating as ever.
Stella’s breath caught in her throat. In just six months of marriage, she had fallen deeply for this man. His charm was undeniable, and it was his face, more than anything, that had drawn her in. It had pulled her under, made her lose herself in a dream. But now, she knew it was time to wake up.
“You…” she started, but her voice faltered.
“Have you signed it?” Weston asked, cutting her off.
They spoke almost simultaneously, but the gap between their worlds had never felt wider.
Stella’s heart twisted bitterly, and she lowered her head. “I’ll move out as soon as possible.”
“Okay.”
Weston leaned against the doorframe, studying her quietly. After a moment, his voice was almost soft, but still commanding.
“Lift your head.”
Confusion flickered across Stella’s face. Why was he asking this? Hadn’t he already made everything clear?
She hesitated but complied, lifting her gaze slowly to meet his.
“Mr. Ford…” she said, the formal address like a shield between them.
Weston’s eyes darkened, and his tone shifted—harsher now, more impatient. “Don’t you have anything to ask me?”
Stella’s eyes wavered, but instead of answering, she gave a bitter laugh.
“You don’t even know me, Mr. Ford. What is there left to ask?”
Her words were a direct echo of his earlier statement, throwing it back in his face.
Weston was taken aback, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. But then his expression returned to its usual stoic mask, as if nothing had happened.
“I don’t like tempers,” he remarked coldly.
Stella’s fists clenched at her sides. She took a deep breath, gathering the courage that had been building inside her.
“Since you don’t like me, why did you marry me?” she asked, her voice low but filled with raw emotion.
The question hung in the air, thick with the weight of everything unsaid.
But before Weston could answer, Stella felt another wave of nausea rise in her chest. She turned away quickly, rushing to the sink as her stomach churned violently.
Weston’s gaze followed her, his expression flickering with something unreadable—was it realization? Regret?
He didn’t speak again, but the tension between them thickened, and for the first time, it seemed like he wasn’t sure what to do next.
Skip to content