As if sensing Stella’s gaze, the woman paused. With one hand holding her phone, her delicate eyebrows arched, and her pampered demeanor radiated a quiet confidence. She briefly glanced at Stella before speaking softly into the phone.
“I’ll wait for you at the hospital,” she said, before hanging up and extending her hand to Stella with a bright smile.
“Hi, I’m Guinevere.”
Stella was momentarily stunned. She hesitated, then extended her hand, still confused.
“Hi, I’m Stella…” she said softly.
Guinevere only shook Stella’s hand briefly before pulling away, her expression flickering slightly as she frowned.
After assessing Stella’s harmless appearance, her lips softened into a more genuine smile.
“It seems like I’ve misunderstood,” Guinevere continued. “When you were staring at me earlier, I thought you were a fan who recognized me and wanted an autograph.”
Stella felt a sudden heat rise to her cheeks as she realized what Guinevere meant. The hand that had just shaken the other woman’s burned with embarrassment. Her face flushed in response.
“I’m sorry… I wasn’t staring at you on purpose,” Stella quickly explained. She bit her lip, gathering her thoughts before speaking the truth. “I overheard you talking on the phone and heard a familiar name… I’m sorry if I bothered you.”
Guinevere smiled, her expression warm and understanding. “It’s just a misunderstanding,” she said lightly. “I was talking to my fiancé. He doesn’t have many female friends, and I know all of them, so you probably misheard.”
Stella nodded, trying to hide her unease.
Her gaze inadvertently drifted to Guinevere’s slightly protruding stomach. Her eyes lit up with realization.
“I must have heard it wrong,” Stella muttered, the discomfort in her chest easing slightly.
Guinevere noticed her gaze and smiled knowingly as she casually caressed her stomach, revealing the subtle curve.
“You probably guessed it,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “I’m pregnant. I think you’ll hear the official announcement of my good news soon.”
“Congratulations, Ms. Cohen,” Stella replied politely, though the words tasted bitter in her mouth.
“Thank you,” Guinevere said, her tone warm, but then her expression shifted to one of mild concern. “But can you keep this a secret for now?”
Stella blinked, caught off guard by the request, but nodded quickly. “I won’t tell anyone.”
As Guinevere turned to leave, Stella exhaled quietly, a weight settling in her chest. It turned out that she was already acquainted with the woman.
Guinevere Cohen was a renowned beauty, with an impeccable family background, academic achievements, and a stunning appearance. She was also Weston’s ex-girlfriend and first love.
Stella, on the other hand, had attended the same school as Weston, though their social circles had been worlds apart. She had always admired him from a distance, never daring to dream that she would one day marry him.
Her thoughts shifted back to how her relationship with Weston had begun…
A few months ago, Stella had been at the hospital, accompanying her brother Roger for his chemotherapy. Overwhelmed by the mounting medical bills, she had stepped out into the corridor to find a quiet place to cry.
It was there, as she looked up, that her gaze met Weston’s. He was standing in the hallway, casually smoking a cigarette. Sparks danced at his fingertips, and the rising smoke seemed to swirl around him, adding an air of mystery to his already enigmatic presence. His dark eyes, like the calm sea, were unreadable.
Stella couldn’t tear her eyes away. At that moment, she forgot why she was even crying.
When Weston saw her, he immediately put out his cigarette and approached her. His tall figure cast a shadow over her, and in his deep, commanding voice, he asked, “Will you marry me? I can give you what you want.”
The words hit her like a wave, and before she fully understood what she was doing, she nodded. Perhaps it was because of her long-held crush on him, but she never even thought to ask him why he wanted to marry her. She feared that if she questioned him, the dream would shatter before her eyes.
Back in Roger’s hospital room, her brother looked weak, but his spirits were surprisingly high. Stella sat beside his bed, peeling an apple for him.
Just as the knife was about to cut her finger, Roger, ever perceptive, asked, “Sis, did you have a fight with Brother-in-Law? You look a bit distracted…”
Before Stella could respond, Roger’s eyes brightened as he saw a familiar figure pass by the ward.
“Brother-in-Law!” he exclaimed happily.
Stella’s heart skipped a beat, and the apple peel she had been holding slipped from her fingers, falling to the floor.
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