A sense of helplessness washed over Stella. “I have my own things to do, too. I can‘t even
go to the bathroom if you insist on that.”
“Did I not let you go to the bathroom just now?”
Stella remained silent,
She rubbed between her brows. “I want to get some water. Can you let me go, please?”
Weston refused.
She stood up, and he stood up along with her.
Thus, unable to hold it in any longer, Stella raised her voice. “You‘re still on a drip. If you move as you
please, I‘ll have to trouble the doctor to come and secure the needle again!” “Help me push the drip. I‘ll
go with you to get some water.” Weston found it absolutely reasonable. Stella was speechless. “The
kitchen is right there. You can watch me pouring water for myself. Will I grow wings and fly out of this
place?” Weston remained silent with pursed lips. His eyes widened as he considered telling her that he
was indeed worried that someday, she would grow wings and fly out of this place, never to be seen
again. Just like how she jumped off the building that day.
She fell off that tall building, just like that. If she really had wings, she would certainly choose to leave
him. She would even be willing to dive down the deepest abyss if she didn‘t.
Weston did not want to see either situation happening.
Stella might not have realized it before, but she now keenly sensed how difficult it could be to please a
man like Weston.
Now that he was sick, he seemed even more like the devil, sent from hell to torment her.
After she finally managed to get a cup of water from the kitchen, Weston dragged her back to the couch
and locked her in his embrace.
He treated her just like a bolster, refusing to let her go. Stella did not find herself very small in stature.
Although skinny, her body was of a decent build and was definitely not akin to a child.
However, as she lay in Weston‘s embrace, the disparity in size was stark. She felt like a doll, clamped
tightly in place by one of his strong arms. He was capable of effortlessly holding her in place even while
he was sick.
Stella had no choice but to stay by his side while on a drip. The night gradually fell silent.
Stella glanced at the clock and saw that it was getting late.
Yet, Weston became even more alert as the night went on.
She touched his forehead and felt grateful that his fever had gone down. Weston looked at her silently as
his eyes reverted to their usual cold and distant look.
It was as if that whining man who was sticking to her previously was nothing but an illusion. Stella
calmed down and looked into his eyes as she said calmly, “Your fever has gone down now. I‘ll go back to
my own room for a rest. Get Joan‘s help to call for the doctor to remove the drip later...” Weston didn‘t
respond.
A while later, he landed a kiss on her forehead.
“It‘s been tough on you,” he said. Stella smiled. “If you find it tough on me, please let me go back to my
bed. I‘m rather tired.” She yawned. “Just sleep here,“Weston hugged her and made her lean in his
embrace. Stella didn‘t want to. “I can‘t sleep well like this, and it‘ll just wear you out more.” “It won‘t,”
Weston said. “I’m never tired when I hug you.“
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