The next day, Stella was woken up by the sound of a familiar ringtone.
It seemed someone had been trying to reach Weston since last night. His phone had been ringing all night, but neither of them had paid any attention. Stella glanced at Weston, who was still fast asleep. It was the first time that he slept more soundly than her. She reached over and grabbed his phone. Her eyes darkened when she saw the name of the caller on the screen. Just as she silently stared at the phone, Weston opened his eyes. Stella happened to look over, and her eyes met with his stormy ones.
âWhy arenât you answering the phone?â he asked with a faintly hoarse voice while looking straight at her as though trying to plumb the depths of her soul. âItâs your phone,â she replied, handing it to him.
Half propped up on his elbows, Weston pulled Stella into his arms so that she would lean on his chest.
Then with his other hand, he reached out of the blanket and answered the phone.
âWhat is it?â he asked.
âFinally!â came the angry voice on the phone. âGod d*mn it, Weston! Iâve been calling you all night! I thought you were dead or something!â âWhatâs the matter?â asked Weston, half-frowning. âThe kidnapper has died suddenly in the hospital!â âAnd?â replied Weston. Heâd already known, so he wasnât surprised by the news.
âOhâ¦â Henry Moore sighed in relief. He could guess from Westonâs tone that heâd already found out about it. âI just thought that it might be important to youâ¦â Henry had no idea what exactly went on between Weston, Guinevere, and Stella, but he was pretty sure that the kidnapper must harbor some secrets. Weston wouldnât have kept him alive all this time, otherwise.
Guinevere seemed very wary of the man too. She even visited him herself yesterday, although the visit ultimately cost him his life.
âWhat exactly is going on between you and Gwen, Weston?â he asked. âWhat were you guys doing with a thug like that?â
âIâll explain everything when the dust settles,â Weston answered, his face glum.
âDonât bother,â said Henry. âI donât really care. I have no interest in getting roped into the mess between you and Gwen.â
âYou can easily stay out of this as long as you can say no to Guinevere, but you canât do that, can you?â
Henry hated the cynicism in Westonâs voice. He pushed his wheelchair to the balcony and casually picked off a thorn from the cactus plant.
âYou know full well that I wouldâve died long ago if it hadnât been for Gwen,â he said. âI owe her my life.â
âI donât care what goes on between the two of you,â Weston stated plainly. âIt has nothing to do with me.â
âDonât you think its a little too cold of you? Everyone knows Gwen would do anything for you! Sheâs completely devoted to you! Itâs all come this far, Weston. Why donât you just settle down with her and stop messing around and making her feel insecure?â
âThatâs none of your business,â replied Weston before hanging up abruptly. He turned to Stella and was met with her piercing gaze.
âWhy are you looking at me like that?â he asked, hugging her tight. âWanna do it again?â âShut up!â
Stella scowled. âCanât your brain think of anything else?â
âActually,â he argued, âit would be ludicrous of me not to think about it, considering the position we are in now.â
Stella looked down and blushed deeply. âYou seem to be pretty close with Henry Moore,â she observed, resting her head on Westonâs chest.
âWhy? Are you interested in him?â he lifted her chin with a finger, his tone laced with scrutiny. âI donât like it when you show interest in other men.â