After sending Guinevere back to her apartment, Weston glanced at his watch. It was late—Stella was likely already asleep—but he sent her a message anyway.
All his previous numbers had been blocked by her, so he’d gotten a new one. It wasn’t difficult for him, and surprisingly, she hadn’t blocked this one yet.
Perhaps she had realized there was no point. Maybe she’d simply given up.
The thought made him smile faintly.
Even after some time, there was no reply. He hadn’t expected one, really. With a sigh, he headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. But when he returned, a small blinking light on his phone caught his eye.
He picked it up, and his gaze darkened when he saw the caller ID.
Stella.
He answered the call but said nothing, waiting for her voice. Instead, a man’s unfamiliar tone came through the speaker.
“Who are you? Why are you texting Stella in the middle of the night?”
At a drive-in cinema, Stella sat beside another man.
She never thought she would be out on a date just a year after everything she’d been through. After all the pain, she wasn’t sure she had the strength to love again.
It wasn’t that no one had tried to pursue her—but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Weston’s obsessive pursuit had left her with only one solution: if she wanted him to give up, she had to move on. Or at least pretend to.
And she refused to let herself be used again, the way he once had.
So she made things clear from the start.
“I have an ex who won’t let go. I’m not looking for a real relationship,” she said calmly.
They were adults—some things didn’t need to be spelled out. The man beside her simply smiled. “My family forced me into blind dates, and I’m not looking for anything serious either. If you’re okay with it, we can pretend to be a couple. We can end it anytime—no pressure.”
His honesty made it easier for her to agree.
He’d been introduced by a colleague from the training center. They had grown up as neighbors, and according to her, he was a decent guy—reliable and respectful.
After letting Roger know, Stella went out with him to see a movie.
It was her first time at a drive-in cinema. The massive screen stood tall in a spacious parking lot, surrounded by all kinds of cars. They parked in a spot with a great view. The man drove a sleek sports car, and the breeze flowing in through the windows was cool and pleasant.
He pulled out a can of beer and offered it to her. “Want one? I also brought juice if you’d prefer.”
She smiled lightly. “Beer’s fine.”
He was a gentleman. Though he’d had a few relationships in the past, he had taken each one seriously. It was those very experiences that left him disillusioned with dating. But with his family pressing him, he agreed to go on the blind date.
As they talked, Stella found herself relating to his story. Their situations, while different, held the same weight of emotional fatigue. The conversation flowed, and time passed without them noticing.
Then her phone buzzed.
A message from Weston.
Her smile faded, and her words fell away mid-sentence. Sensing the shift, the man glanced at her.
“Your ex?” he asked knowingly, then extended his hand with a gentle smile. “Here, let me help.”
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