Yet, Matthew dismissed her efforts, his voice slurred but tender.
“Don’t go, darling. Stay here in my arms just a little Longer.”
Her heart skipped a beat at his unexpected words. As he fell silent, seemingly drifting back to sleep, his arms held her in a steadfast embrace.
Close enough to feel his breath, Stella stared into his face, her emotions swirling-a storm of confusion, affection, and concern.
Gradually, her resistance waned, and she settled into the warmth of his hold.
Perhaps it was the strain of the past few days or the comfort of his embrace, but soon, fatigue overtook her, and she succumbed to sleep nestled against him.
Meanwhile, Matthew’s eyes opened, clear and sober. He watched over Stella, cradling her with mixed emotions in his eyes.
The next morning, Stella awoke to a startled cry.
Erin had arrived, stepping into the living room to find an unexpected scene: Stella and Matthew, intertwined in sleep on the sofa. Her gasp of surprise punctured the morning stillness.
Lindsay, trailing behind Erin, glimpsed the scene and a spark of jealousy ignited within her.
Stella felt a tinge of embarrassment wash over her. She had intended to rise once Matthew had drifted off, but unexpectedly, she too had succumbed to sleep through the night.
As she prepared to stand, Stella caught sight of Lindsay and her brow furrowed slightly in disapproval.
Erin, caught in an uncomfortable position, quickly stammered an apology. “Sorry, Mrs. Clark, Mr. Clark. I… I didn’t mean to intrude. When I arrived, Miss Wheeler had just got out of her car, so I invited her in with me.”
Stella rose, smoothing her rumpled clothing as Matthew stirred beside her, rubbing his weary eyes.
She addressed Erin calmly. “Erin, please start on your tasks for the day.”
Relieved, Erin made a swift exit to the kitchen.
Stella couldn’t help but notice Lindsay’s rigid demeanor, her face contorted as if she had stumbled upon a scandalous affair. The absurdity of the situation wasn’t Lost on Stella.
Matthew, looking visibly annoyed, massaged his temples before addressing Lindsay with evident impatience. “What brings you here so early?”
Lindsay, taken aback by his blunt inquiry, hastily dabbed at her dry eyes, her voice laced with a contrived distress. “Matthew, didn’t you say Dr. Watts was coming to check on me today? I was so anxious last night; I barely slept. I couldn’t reach you, and you weren’t at your office, so I felt I had no choice but to come here.”
Her plea was laden with an attempt to evoke sympathy and alleviate her own anxieties.
Matthew glanced at the clock, his response icy. “It’s still early. Dr. Watts hasn’t arrived yet. And remember, you shouldn’t be running around in your condition. Didn’t we go over this yesterday? Fernando will take you to the hospital when it’s time.”
Lindsay appeared oblivious to Matthew’s words, her determination unwavering as she propelled her wheelchair forward, insistent on positioning herself in front of him.
Her eyes reddened, and within the blink of an eye, tears tumbled down like scattered pearls, her sobs breaking the silence. “Matthew, what if… what if Dr. Watts can’t heal my legs? What do I do then? Will I be completely useless? How can I go on living…”
Matthew’s head throbbed, a storm of irritation brewing within him.