Stella was immersed in her memories when the sound of footsteps came from outside the door.
She immediately lifted her head and asked, âWhoâs there?â
Stella furrowed her brows and walked over cautiously. âIs it Roger? Did you forget something?â
She glanced at the clock and noted that it was past the boarding time of their flight. It couldnât possibly be Roger and Riley.
Who could it be, then?
They werenât familiar with the neighbors, and Roger didnât tell her of any expected deliveries.
She held her breath and wondered if it could be Michael outside the door, someone she had been worried about and thinking of over the past few days.
During this period before Roger went overseas, she had been on tenterhooks, worried that Michael would find her out and expose her true identity.
There was suddenly no more movement outside. Stella didnât say anything further and simply stood there.
A moment later, she heard a familiar low voice of a man.â Itâs me.â
Stella heaved a sigh of relief and opened the door.â Weston?â
Wearing a black coat and standing in the corridor, his towering figure made the passage seem narrow and short, and his imposing aura of grandeur stood in stark contrast with his surroundings. Stella turned sideways and invited him in. âCome on in.â
Weston walked past her right into the apartment. Ever since the last time they parted ways acrimoniously, Weston had been staying in his office and never returned to Stardust Mansion.
Stella adhered to their agreement and went back every day on time, except today. She decided to stay the night here because of Roger but didnât expect to see Weston.
âIs something the matter?â Stella shut the door and turned around. Suddenly, he turned to face her and pressed her against the door, kissing her hard.
Weston shut his eyes and concentrated on the kiss. He pulled her into his arms, pried her mouth open, and reveled in her fragrance.
Ever since their fight and the cold war, they hadnât seen each other for days.
Weston was busy with work and did not return to Stardust Mansion for a few consecutive nights, and his movements had a tinge of urgency in them.
He did not contact Stella , and neither did Stella contact him as if she did not intend to break the ice with him.
The thought made Weston tighten his grip over her, with a slight punitive tone to his aggressive actions.
Stella was pressed against the wall, her family photo hanging right above her head. Her parents were smiling warmly and kindly as they looked innocently ahead. Guilt suddenly coursed through her veins.
While catching their breaths, Stella stopped him pantingly, âEnough, stop for a whileâ¦â âNot enough,â
Weston held her chin and kissed her again. âHow could so little be enough after kicking me aside for so many days?â
Stela remained silent, her tongue feeling sore as her palms pressed against his chest.
Even though she did not explicitly reject him, she remained in a resistant posture.
The kiss was barely enough to douse Westonâs raging emotions. He leaned his forehead against hers and said in between pants, âTell me, how many days has it been?â
Stella shut her eyes, her eyelashes trembling. âFour days âSeems like you remember it clearly,â Weston rubbed his nose against hers. âFour times later, all right?â
Stellaâs eyes flew open. âAre you crazy?â He chuckled quietly. âYouâll see later if Iâm really crazy.â He pulled her arm and wrapped them around his waist.
Stella was forced to hug him for a long time. After calming herself down, she said, âRoger just left today. Iâm not really in the moodâ¦â