Stella’s heart clenched the moment she heard him speak. A flicker of fear flashed within her, afraid that he might be upset. But then she saw the playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was clear—he was teasing her.
Though he knew she was putting on an act, he seemed willing to accept this version of her. And that realization made something in her chest tighten, but she didn’t show it.
Her expression slowly shifted, darkening with a quiet bitterness. It was ironic, really. He was trying so hard to make her return to the person she used to be, but back when she loved him with all her heart, he hadn’t paid any attention to her.
She knew what he was trying to do—she saw right through him—but she didn’t let it show.
After they finished eating, he stood up to clean the dishes. Stella hesitated for a moment, about to get up and help, but seeing that he was already taking care of it, she decided to leave the task to him.
Back when they were together, she would have never let him do any of the chores. He had only needed to sit back and relax while she did everything, like a personal assistant of sorts. But now, the roles had reversed.
She sank into the sofa, pulling out her phone. Roger had sent her multiple messages, and in an instant, her tough exterior melted away. She had lied to him—told him that she had an important work trip to attend. But the truth was, she was just a teacher. Where could she possibly go?
To ensure her lie wasn’t uncovered, Yvonne had even called Roger to back her up, and it seemed that he had bought it.
It had been a few days since she had gone home, and this felt strange—this had never happened before. Roger used to call her every night, eager to hear her voice. Back then, Weston would leave whenever they spoke.
A soft smile touched her lips as she read Roger’s messages about the amusing things happening at school.
When Weston emerged from the kitchen and saw her like this, his chest tightened. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a soft glow around Stella. She looked small, almost fragile, sitting on the couch. She was wearing the same house clothes she used to wear, and it almost felt like they were still married.
Her jet-black hair clung to her face, and the sunlight made the fine strands shimmer, highlighting the delicate veins beneath her near-transparent skin. She was smiling.
It was a real smile—one that could only be shared with someone she deeply cared about.
It hit Weston in that moment—Stella had only been acting for him, and for a moment, he almost believed it. If he hadn’t seen that genuine smile, he might have thought the old Stella was returning.
The Stella who had once made him the center of her world.
His gaze lingered for a moment longer, but his thoughts were interrupted when a tall figure appeared beside her. Stella snapped out of her reverie and quickly put her phone away, looking up at him.
“What are we doing this afternoon?” she asked, her voice soft but steady. It was still a few hours before noon, and after breakfast, she wasn’t hungry.
Weston opened his mouth to respond, but his phone rang, interrupting him. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted. His gaze subconsciously moved toward Stella. She met his eyes, understanding what the look meant. Without a word, she turned her gaze away.
Weston opened his mouth to say something but stopped himself. There was nothing more to say. The moment had passed.
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