The thunderclap jolted her awake from the daze. Stella recoiled, and her body shivered
violently. She tossed the pillow across the room, and it landed on the floor.
She looked at Weston. Seeing that he was still sleeping, as if completely unaware of what just
happened, she climbed out of bed to pick up the pillow and placed it where it belonged. She shrank away
from Weston completely, aghast of what she was doing just now.
She was trying to kill Weston.
Her whole body quivered at that realization. She dreaded to think what would have happened had she
succeeded in her attempt. Weston was a powerful and influential man. If someone of his stature was to
be found dead in her bed, there was no way that she would be able to get away with it. There would be
nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Even her brother might be implicated too. Stella was inundated by a
sense of remorse and regret. She felt remorseful for the horrendous act that she almost committed. At
the same time, she regretted losing possibly the only chance she had to get rid of Weston and gain
freedom for herself.
Drained of all her energy, she leaned against the headboard, staring blankly at the man beside her. She
did not know how long she stayed that way. The next thing she knew, her back was drenched in cold
sweat, and she was so exhausted that she had to lie down and shut her eyes. Soon, she was overcome
by fatigue and fell into slumber. Her breathing gradually slowed down and became more regular. Then,
the man beside her opened his eyes. His eyes were as dark as the blackest starless night while he
quietly studied Stella‘s face. It was still the same face that he knew, yet at the same time, it seemed so
wholly foreign to him that it might as well belong to a complete stranger.
He was awake when Stella tried to smother him with a pillow, but he did not move or fight back. In that
moment, he thought if it could help Stella eliminate the hatred she felt in her heart, then he would not
mind dying this way.
He could not believe that he had such a ridiculous thought.
But in the end, Stella gave up halfway and did not kill him after all. He remembered thinking when she
removed the pillow that if she was not ruthless enough to kill him, then she would never be able to
remove him from her life.
Weston pulled Stella into his arms and hugged her tight. He leaned down to kiss her forehead again and
again.
“Don‘t be so timid next time...” he murmured, though it sounded more like a sigh.
He moved down and gave the tip of her nose a peck before moving in and kissing her lips. Only when he
held Stella close like this could he fill the emptiness inside of him. With her, he felt whole again. She was
the missing puzzle piece that he needed. The rain outside had finally let up. Stella was fast asleep now.
Weston gazed at her face and took her hand into his. She often clenched her fists even when she was
asleep. It was a defensive gesture of hers.
Weston pried her fingers open and interlaced each of his fingers between her slender ones. The fact that
their hands were now so intertwined that there was basically no distance between them comforted him. It
made him feel that they were truly connected to each other. He then finally closed his eyes. But before
he could fall asleep, he heard Stella whimpering in her sleep. He leaned in closer to make out what she
said. “Baby... My baby... Weston‘s eyes clouded over as pain flashed across his face.
It was not the first time he heard her calling for her dead baby in her sleep. But this time, he could really
feel the excruciating pain resulting from the loss of their baby, which hung like a heavy cloud between
them. Weston placed his hand gently on her flat belly. There would never be another baby in her womb.
He closed his eyes, but his hands were still trembling. If Stella could never get pregnant again, then he
did not want another child.
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