After a while, the table was piled high with food.
Stella heard the noises and turned to look at them, which surprised her.
Weston didn’t like too many people in the house. Right after they left, he called Stella over.
She obediently stood up and walked to the table. Her eyes lit up slightly when she saw a table of food.
“What is this?
He forced her to sit and then sat across from her. “Pick what you like to eat.” He handed her a plate
and a set of chopsticks.
There were all sorts of foods on the table.
All were made by top chefs, and for Stella to pick. She took in a deep breath. “It’s only a dinner. Did you
have to make it this grand?”
“At least I’ll know what you like to eat,” Weston replied logically.
Her movement stopped and she put her hand on the chair and subconsciously looked at the man in
front of her.
They locked into each other gazes. She suddenly remembered something, and her lips curved into a
smile, and she let out a laugh. But she wasn’t sure if the smile was sarcastic or nostalgic. Before this,
she would spare no effort in getting to know what Weston like.
Now, the tables had turned.
For a man like Weston, he naturally wouldn’t cook for her. It was considered generous that he had
asked someone to cook for her.
If it had been before, she would have been grateful, but now, she believed it was nothing but direct
mockery.
She sat down and chose a few light-flavored items to eat.
Weston didn’t move at all, merely looking at her.
When he noticed she was eating light cuisine, he grimaced and inquired, “I remember you used to
appreciate spicy stuff.”
Although he didn’t love or care for her when they were still married, he knew her habits, since they lived
together for a long time. Stella paused for a while when she heard this, but didn’t say anything. But he
didn’t stop questioning. “When did your taste change?” “It never did.”
“Why don’t you eat them?”
Her lips curled into a sneer and said, “I don’t feel so well, so I can’t eat.”
He didn’t know whether it is because of the miscarriage she had suffered, or because of watching her
fall from the top of the rooftop that day… Weston suddenly shut his eyes and rubbed his forehead in
frustration.
After a while, he spoke in a hoarse voice, “What should I do to make you forget about the
past?”
She shook her head. “I will never forget that I lost a life.”
She said so calmly, yet it felt heavy.
As he stared into her eyes and saw that the gentleness in them had faded, he knew that no matter
what he did, she would never forget what happened.
The hurt he had inflicted on to her was like a scar that would never heal.
His eyes darkened as if he had accepted reality and he sighed. “Eat.” She picked up her chopsticks
and took some of the spicy food.
Weston’s brows furrowed even more, seeing her like that.
Seeing that she suddenly started to put all those spicy dishes into her bowl, he stopped her.” Enough,
what are you doing?”
She smiled and said, “It’s been a long time since I ate my favorite dish. I want to indulge.”
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