Weston said nothing. He leaned against her face, and kissed her a few times before murmuring, “Once
we get to the new room, you can rest for a little longer before the dinner happens, okay?”
The tone of voice that he used suggested tender intimacy, as if they were a loving married couple.
They both had something in common — they were both excellent pretenders.
Even though their relationship was so damaged that it was like a ship riddled with holes, as long as
Weston was willing, they could easily put up an act and pretend that they were deeply in love with each
other.
Stella nodded and replied, “Okay.”
The staff who were supposed to help them move their stuff had been waiting outside.
Stella frowned as she watched them move her potted plants from the balcony.
“Let me handle that one,” she told them.
She looked at her oleander plant worryingly, fearing that they might damage it somehow.
“It looks like you care a lot about that plant,” Weston stated as he held her waist. He looked into her
eyes and asked, “Do you like this kind of plant in particular?”
His searching eyes made Stella feel a little guilty, so she turned away from him and replied, “Not really.
It‘s just that it is especially delicate. It must be handled with care, or it will be damaged. I‘m a bit more
cautious with it, that‘s all.”
“I‘ll tell them to be careful with it then,” Weston said, playing with her fingers.
Yet, even so, Stella couldn‘t shift her gaze from the oleander plant.
Weston didn‘t like it when her attention was on anything else but him, even if it was just a potted plant.
“So what if it gets damaged? I can just get you a new one. In fact, I can get you as many as you like.”
Stella looked at his somewhat gloomy face and sensed something , so she asked him in a helpless
tone, “Don‘t tell me you‘re jealous of a potted plant?”
Weston didn‘t speak, but his eyes were staring deeply into hers, as if trying to peer into her soul. Stella
always got extremely nervous whenever Weston turned silent like that. She couldn‘t read his emotions
or guess what ran through his mind. He often did that concealing his thoughts and feelings from her
and making her panic.
After a long time, he casually toyed with her hair and reminded her in a husky voice, “You can have a
hobby, but it must not take up too much of your time.”
He didn‘t mind her spending so much time and effort on these inanimate plants that couldn‘t even talk
or move, with the only condition that she spent the majority of it with him and him alone.
Caring about anyone or anything more than she did for him was strictly disallowed. Not even a potted
plant.
Stella‘s eyes flickered. With a playful tone, she asked him, “You‘re not going to punish me just because
of some plants, are you?” “What if I insist on taking care of them?” she continued, leaning into his arms
and stroking his chest. “You won‘t go as far as to throw them all out, will you?”
Weston grabbed her groping hand and plainly said, “Try me.”
“You can‘t be serious!” Stella‘s expressions gradually changed. “But they‘re only potted plants...”
“As I said, try me.”
Weston chuckled in his deep voice, yet there was no humor in the eyes that looked straight at her.
Of course, she could try and see if he would punish those
plants for stealing her attention away from him.
The little light that was left in Stella‘s eyes gradually faded away. She didn‘t speak and merely leaned
against his chest, completely motionless.
Weston stroked her hair, leaned down, and kissed her on the forehead. “Go on,” he said. “Go rest. I‘ve
got some things to do.”
“Okay,” she replied tersely.
Weston got up and left. Stella watched him leave, and her eyes gradually turned darker and darker.
It appeared that she had finally made up her mind.
She was no different from a flower kept inside a glass dome, forever separated from the warmth of
sunlight by the cold hard glass. While the flower might seem to be thriving from the outside, inside, it
was actually utterly exhausting, devoid of all hope save for a tiny glimmer that one day, a drastic
occurrence would finally destroy everything
When tomorrow came, the oleander flowers would finally be in full bloom.
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