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.
“Why aren’t you answering the phone?” he asked with a faintly hoarse voice while looking straight at
her as though trying to plumb the depths of her soul. “It’s your phone,” 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.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Finally!” came the angry voice on the phone. “God d*mn it, Weston! I’ve been calling you all night! I
thought you were dead or something!” “What’s the matter?” asked Weston, half-frowning. “The
kidnapper has died suddenly in the hospital!” “And?” replied Weston. He’d already known, so he wasn’t
surprised by the news.
“Oh…” Henry Moore sighed in relief. He could guess from Weston’s tone that he’d already found out
about it. “I just thought that it might be important to you…” 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 wouldn’t 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.
“What exactly is going on between you and Gwen, Weston?” he asked. “What were you guys doing
with a thug like that?”
“I’ll explain everything when the dust settles,” Weston answered, his face glum.
“Don’t bother,” said Henry. “I don’t really care. I have no interest in getting roped into the mess between
you and Gwen.”
“You can easily stay out of this as long as you can say no to Guinevere, but you can’t do that, can
you?”
Henry hated the cynicism in Weston’s voice. He pushed his wheelchair to the balcony and
casually picked off a thorn from the cactus plant.
“You know full well that I would’ve died long ago if it hadn’t been for Gwen,” he said. “I owe her my
life.”
“I don’t care what goes on between the two of you,” Weston stated plainly. “It has nothing to do with
me.”
“Don’t you think its a little too cold of you? Everyone knows Gwen would do anything for you! She’s
completely devoted to you! It’s all come this far, Weston. Why don’t you just settle down with her and
stop messing around and making her feel insecure?”
“That’s none of your business,” replied Weston before hanging up abruptly. He turned to Stella and was
met with her piercing gaze.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, hugging her tight. “Wanna do it again?” “Shut up!”
Stella scowled. “Can’t your brain think of anything else?”
“Actually,” he argued, “it would be ludicrous of me not to think about it, considering the position we are
in now.”
Stella looked down and blushed deeply. “You seem to be pretty close with Henry Moore,” she
observed, resting her head on Weston’s chest.
“Why? Are you interested in him?” he lifted her chin with a finger, his tone laced with scrutiny. “I don’t
like it when you show interest in other men.”
62fb1bb41dcb31934bd49bda