Stella had just settled onto the sofa when she saw Weston step in from the balcony, his phone pressed to his ear. He glanced at her briefly, his face unreadable. “I have something to take care of. Be good and stay home,” he said, his tone casual.
As he picked up his jacket from the chair, he slid it on and buttoned it up, moving toward the entrance. After taking a few steps, he paused and looked back at Stella. “Come here,” he said, motioning with a wave of his hand.
Stella hesitated, her body stiff, but after a moment, she rose from the couch and walked toward him slowly. “What’s the matter?” she asked quietly.
Weston didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed her by the collar and pulled her toward him. Before she could react, she let out a startled scream as her feet left the ground.
In an instant, he had her in his arms. She instinctively placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, her breath catching in her throat. Weston carried her effortlessly with one arm, while his other hand moved to the back of her neck, pressing her down as he kissed her forcefully.
Stella tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong. His kiss was demanding, and she had no choice but to take it. She closed her eyes, her mind rushing with conflicting emotions, until his scent faded like the retreating tide. Finally, she opened her eyes, blinking rapidly. She had resisted him, but the effort left her feeling drained.
They didn’t speak. Words seemed unnecessary. Stella turned her head, trying to escape his hold, but Weston wasn’t having it. He grasped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. “I want to hear you say you’ll wait for me to come back,” he demanded.
Stella exhaled, her chest tight, and met his gaze. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “Okay.” She couldn’t bring herself to say anything more, but that was enough for Weston. He seemed satisfied with her reply, his gaze softening ever so slightly.
He lowered her gently to the floor, pressing a brief, tender kiss to her forehead. His tone, however, was firm. “I hope I’ll see you when I come home.”
He reached out and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, his touch lingering for just a moment. Stella stood still, letting him do as he pleased, her body stiff with a mixture of emotions. She watched him as he left, the door clicking shut behind him.
Once he was gone, all of her strength seemed to drain away. She stood motionless for a few moments, her mind swirling. Then, without warning, she rushed to the bathroom.
She turned on the faucet, the water rushing out in a steady stream. Stella bent over the sink, vigorously scrubbing the corners of her mouth, trying to wash away the taste of him. The cold water splashed against her face, and she turned the faucet to its highest setting, letting the water hit her skin as she rubbed herself harshly, her skin reddening under the pressure. She continued until the ache in her body matched the rawness inside her.
As she slowed, she heard footsteps approaching. Joan, the housekeeper, stood in the doorway, her face filled with concern as she watched Stella continue to wash herself.
Stella looked up, catching Joan’s gaze. She managed a weak, shaky smile, her voice strained as she spoke. “Can you not tell him?” she asked, the tremor in her voice betraying her attempt at calm. When she said “him,” it was clear she meant Weston.
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