Stella opened the door of the dimly lit room and walked in.
Weston did not move a muscle when he heard the noise. He could tell who was coming in just by the sound of the footsteps.
He hid in the corner when she came up behind him, giving him a gentle pat as she put her hand on his shoulder.
He immediately turned his head sideways.
Seeing him in this state, her hands trembled a little. She whispered behind his ear only after a long time, âItâs meâ¦â
Of course, he knew it was her.
But he didnât want her to see him like this.
The chains that shackled him rattled noisily as he moved.
Her eyelashes fluttered, and her red eyes showed incredulity. âWhy must you make yourself like this?â
âI didnât mean toâ¦â
He said to her with a hoarse voice. âI didnât ask you to come over either. Itâs you who wanted to. I didnât want you to see me like this, and I certainly didnât want you to pity me.â
She held his hand tightly at once and put her forehead against his palm. âI did not pity you, norâ¦â
She suddenly choked and couldnât continue.
âAre you not pitying me when youâre like this?â
He silently pulled his hand out and lowered his head. âGo away.â
His words made Stella could not help but get annoyed. âDo you really want me to go?â
âDidnât you want to see me? Then what are you doing coming to me again? Do you think youâre generous by showing kindness? You can still appear in front of your nasty exâhusband out of sympathy?â
At the end of the day, the last thing he wanted was tol be the only thing left between them.
He would rather just disappear from her sight.
But how could he manage to stop seeing her?
As long as he heard her voice, saw her face, or just her shadow, there was no way he could leave.
He wanted to hold her tightly and bind her to his side, not allowed to leave. He wanted her to look into his eyes and listen to his words, to be kissed and embraced only by him.
Weston would be in immense pain as soon as these thoughts popped into his mind. He could not be like this, using his obsessive and pathetic fantasy to tie Stella to him. As long as his illness worsened, he would forever be a burden to Stella.
She even stopped refusing him anymore.
He still remembered that day in the office when she clearly did not like it but went along with him.
He did not want her to be like that.
He wanted her to blame him, refuse him, and even hurt him. Only then would he have a little peace of mind.
It would make him know that it was the lively Stella in front of him, not a marionette who only obeyed him because he was pitiful.
Stella did not know what was going through his mind and told the doctor, âPut him on the bed.â
As soon as the men touched him, he waved them away.
He would not let anyone touch him.
She sighed and walked up to him. âIâll do it myself. Is that okay?â
The manâs thin lips pursed into a straight line, looking highly guarded.
But it was obvious that he couldnât refuse Stellaâs touch. He even coveted it a little.
She looked at him in this state and shook her head. She wetted a towel and wiped his body. When her hand reached his wound, she deliberately exerted a little force.
Weston hissed and gasped but still refused to cry out in pain. It put her at ease, though.
âServes you right,â she said.