After finishing her sentence, Lucas pulled her close, his grip tightening around her waist as he rasped in a low voice, “It’s my birthday. Are you just taking me to dinner?”
Yvonne shivered slightly from the heat of his breath against her skin, the sensation tingling on her neck. She instinctively pushed him away, her voice laced with light laughter. “Don’t do that. It tickles…”
The driver, still focused on the road, remained unaware of the subtle intimacy unfolding in the backseat. Despite the situation, Lucas didn’t relent. His hold only tightened, and his eyes darkened with intent.
“That won’t do. At least show me you’re sincere.”
Yvonne huffed, a little annoyed, but the closeness between them made her feel flustered. “How much more sincerity do you want?”
With a mischievous smile, Lucas reached over and pressed a button on the side. The privacy divider in the car rose smoothly, sealing off the backseat into a private sanctuary. The spacious luxury car was now entirely theirs, insulated from the world outside.
Yvonne’s face flushed with realization. “Why are you so passionate today?”
“Since you didn’t get me a present, I’ll get it myself.” Lucas’s eyes met hers, his gaze cool yet intense. Despite his usual composed demeanor—always neat in his white coat, carrying the faint scent of disinfectant—his passion now came through with an unfamiliar boldness.
Yvonne’s embarrassment melted away as she focused entirely on him, her earlier thoughts slipping into the background. The sound insulation of the car did its job, but it didn’t block the vibrations of their movements.
Flustered, Yvonne quickly reached out to hug his neck. “We’re almost home. Hurry up…”
Lucas’s breath tickled her ear as he whispered, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot just beneath it. “I can’t hurry with this…”
A Different Tension
The mood between Weston and Stella, however, couldn’t have been more different. The air in the car felt cold, almost suffocating. Stella didn’t say a word, walking ahead in silence, determined to keep her distance.
Once in the car, she settled into the quiet, unwilling to engage with him. Weston glanced at her through the rearview mirror but said nothing at first, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You can’t stand to be seen with me?”
Stella inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself, but then, without warning, her hands flew to her face. Tears streamed down her cheeks, betraying the strength she had so carefully built up. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been holding in.
She had always prided herself on her resilience. In the past, she could endure anything. But now, she felt like she was breaking apart.
It wasn’t until she remembered Yvonne’s shocked, almost disappointed expression that her composure truly shattered.
“In the eyes of others, I’m just a shameless homewrecker,” she choked out, her voice laced with sarcasm even as she cried. “I thought she was my best friend, but I’m just a disappointment to her.”
Weston’s eyes flashed with anger at her words. “Why are you crying over Yvonne? How long have you even known her? Why does she matter so much?”
“She is important to me!” Stella’s words came out harsh, and she suddenly dropped her hands from her face, locking eyes with Weston. Her red eyes were fiery, a mixture of hurt and fury. “How could someone like you understand? You’ve always been above it all. No matter what you do wrong, everyone finds an excuse for you. No one holds you accountable.”
Her voice trembled with emotion. “But me? I didn’t do anything wrong, and yet I have to bear all this pressure because of you. You can do whatever you want, but I can’t. I can’t even leave without being hurt.”
Stella’s breath hitched, the weight of everything she had been holding back suddenly coming to the surface. “What have I done to offend you? Why can’t you just let me go?”
For the first time, Weston saw the rawness of her emotion. Her words had cut through him, and the realization that he had been part of her torment hit him harder than he expected.
Stella had been silently enduring for so long, but now, at her breaking point, he could see the pain in her eyes—the cracks in the walls she had so carefully built.
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