Stella slept soundly that night, perhaps from the effects of the medicine. Recently, however, she seemed plagued by more and more fatigue each time she woke up.
Perhaps sheâd been taking too much medicine lately, or perhaps it was Westonâs insatiable appetite.
The next morning, Stella heard a baby cry before she woke up. It startled her, and she thought she was still in a dream.
After a while, the babyâs crying became extremely clear, as if it was coming from the living room.
Quickly, she lifted the covers and ran out of the bedroom without her slippers. She rushed to the living room and shouted, âBaby!â
Then, she saw Weston standing there with a baby in his arms. When he heard her running, he looked at her.
âYouâre awake?â
Stella thought she was still dreaming. She froze at the door, unable to stop staring at the baby in his arms.
Weston paused a little and introduced the child. âThis is Zachary. Come and meet him.â
Stella jerked her head up and put her hand on the door frame, looking at him in disbelief.
âWhat do you mean?â
Weston frowned. âDonât you like kids?â
Stella fell silent and almost dug her nails into the cracks of the door. âAre you mocking me?â she asked, her nails screeching noisily on the door, She liked children, but only her own child, the child who was gone before she could meet him.
Her feelings were not for charity, and there was simply no reason why she should like Guinevereâs child.
Weston had Zachary picked up yesterday. The butler from the Ford mansion did not know about Westonâs property here. They only knew Weston took Zachary with him, but they did not know where it was.
Of course, it was not Weston who looked after the baby. Joan was the one who cared for him all night.
Zachary, however, cried nonstop this morning, and Weston had come to pacify him. He did not think it would wake Stella up.
He believed that Stella would be happy to see the baby, so her reaction took him by surprise. With the baby in his arm, Weston walked over to her.â You donât like him?â
Stella could see the babyâs crying face as he approached her. She closed her eyes and turned her head away. âI donât know what you mean. Thatâs the child you had with Guinevere. He has nothing to do with meâ¦â
âLast night, you said you wanted children.â
âI never said that!â Stella growled, annoyed.
Weston paused a little. Zachary, his face flushed red, refused to stop crying.
Weston turned to Joan, âTake care of him.â
âOkay, sir.â Joan hurried forward and took Zachary away from him. She gently patted her back and coaxed, âGood boy. Letâs get us some milk, shall we?â As the cries of the child faded, Stella breathed a sigh of relief and slumped weakly against the door frame.
After noticing how pale sheâd become, Weston strode forward and picked her up in his arms.
âAre you feeling unwell?â
Stella said nothing. She leaned on his shoulder and looked at him as he put her on the bed.
âItâs still early. If youâre not feeling well, you should rest,â Weston said.
Stella shook her head and looked at him intently. âWhy did you bring Zachary over?â âYou were mumbling in your sleep about wanting a baby.â Weston reached out and tucked her messy hair behind her ear.
Stella sneered suddenly, not knowing whether to cry or laugh. âIs that why you brought Zachary here?
Are you asking me to treat him as my own child?