Mr. Ford is Jealous

After a while, Stella heard him chuckle. A strong scent of cedar wafted over and she heard him say, “It is a little effective.”

 

Stella didn’t think he would react this way.

 

She stared up at him dazedly, unable to regain her senses.

 

The tip of her nose was still red and her eyes were bloodshot. Her delicate and fair skin seemed so translucent in contrast.

 

If it had been a few days earlier, Weston would have held her chin and kissed her.

 

He never held back whenever he needed physical relief with Stella, but now, he was no longer in that position to do that.

 

Weston leaned in closer and his dark gaze stared at the tear that was threatening to roll down. “I’ll go soft on you this time. Don’t give me any trouble, okay?“

 

Stella nodded and answered hoarsely, “Okay.”

 

Weston’s lips curled up but his smile had no warmth.

 

He straightened up. The top two buttons of his white shirt were undone and his suit jacket was casually draped on his arm. He said lazily, “This method does work, but I prefer your obedient side.”

 

“So, be good.”

 

***

 

Stella was discharged.

 

There was nothing wrong with her health but because she had donated blood to Guinevere in the early stage of her pregnancy, she was weakened as a result.

 

She had recovered considerably by now.

 

Zeta met her at Roger’s ward when she was patrolling the rooms and greeted her. “You look great. I presume you’ve decided to keep the baby?”

 

Roger had been lying on the bed obediently. But when he heard this, he abruptly turned to Stella and asked, “What baby?”

 

Stella’s lips were pursed tight and she didn’t answer.

 

The atmosphere became tense for a moment there.

 

Zeta glanced at Roger, then at Stella, before scratching her nose awkwardly. “His condition is stable, so I’ll be going now.”

 

Then, she quickly left the ward.

 

Before she closed the door, she looked at the siblings who seemed ready to jump at each other’s throats and realized that she had said something wrong.

 

She slapped her mouth and mumbled to herself, “Why do I keep running my mouth…”

 

Inside the ward, perhaps because the consecutive setbacks had helped Roger learn to stay calm, he solemnly asked Stella about it instead of flying into a rage. “A baby? Don’t tell me it belongs to Weston.”

 

His hands had balled into fists under the blanket, making the veins on his arms visible.

 

He was originally skinny but further lost weight when he was ill, so even the shape of his bones was showing.

 

Stella sat down beside his bed and looked at him calmly. “It’s my child alone.”

 

“How can you have a baby on your own? Do you think I’m an idiot?!”

 

Roger couldn’t resist bellowing, “What does Weston mean by this? He doesn’t want you and isn’t willing to take responsibility, and now he wants you to bear his child?”

 

Stella abruptly raised her voice and interrupted him, “I wanted to keep the child! He didn’t want it, but I begged him to let me keep it…”

 

“Why…?” Roger didn’t understand.

 

Stella looked at her stomach and said faintly, “I have a unique constitution. This might be the only child I can ever have.”

 

Roger felt the energy drain from his body.

 

His eyes became bloodshot and he hammered a fist onto the bed in resignation.

 

Stella also felt upset after seeing his reaction. Her nose tingled as her calm facade began to crack. “Roger, you can’t tell anyone about this. You must keep it to yourself. This is my child alone, do you understand?”

 

Roger took a deep breath and kept quiet as he shook badly.

 

After a long while, he finally contained his hostility and said, “I understand…”

 

***

 

After calming Roger’s emotions, Stella planned to return to the mansion to pack up.

 

She didn’t know when Weston would send someone to pick her up to collect their divorce certification, so she must secure accommodation before he kicked her out.

 

As she passed by the hospital’s rear garden, she saw a man in a wheelchair. He was rolling his wheelchair on the cobblestone path slowly.

 

Stella subconsciously slowed down as memories surfaced in her mind.

 

This seemed to be the man she last saw before fainting a few days ago.

 

She felt a sense of familiarity just by looking at his back.

 

When he heard footsteps behind him, the man in the wheelchair stopped. He turned around and his gaze met Stella’s.

 

Unlike the time she saw him before she fainted, Stella could now see the man’s face clearly.

 

Back then when she had only caught a quick glance, she remembered that he was good-looking, gentle, and had a warm smile. Now that she got to see him properly, he did indeed have outstanding features.

 

It was easy to tell that he had a tall stature even if he was sitting in a wheelchair.

 

However, he seemed rather thin and exuded an ethereal aura.

 

He gave Stella a small smile. “It’s you.”