When Love Comes Late

Stella, striving to conceal her distress, answered, “Miley informed me in the first few days after Matthew’s return.”

Lucia’s initial shock gave way to the realization that if Miley knew, Cordell and Neville must also be aware and had not shared this with her and Waldo.

This understanding deepened Lucia’s concern for Stella.

She had noticed Matthew’s recent coldness toward Stella, surmising that the lost memories likely involved her.

Lucia’s eyes had reddened as she voiced her concern.

“Why would you keep something so big from us? You’ve been dealing with this all by yourself for too long.

And look at you, you’ve lost weight…”

Stella offered a brave smile, consoling Lucia instead.

“Matthew and I are in this together as husband and wife.

We shouldn’t make you and Waldo worry.”

Lucia sighed deeply, her heart aching more for Stella.

“You’re always thinking of others.

Don’t you know that sometimes, it’s the squeaky wheel that gets the grease?”

Stella thought of Lindsay briefly, and then responded with a subdued smile, “I have faith in Matthew, and in us.”

“That’s my girl,” Lucia said, patting Stella’s hand gently.

As the evening wore on, Stella suggested, “It’s getting late.

Why don’t you two get some rest? I’ll stay here with Matthew.”

“Make sure you don’t overdo it.

If you need anything, call us or the staff,” Lucia advised, her voice tinged with concern.

Feeling comforted by Lucia’s words, Stella nodded and escorted Lucia and Waldo to the door.

After the elderly couple had left, Stella closed the door behind them.

She returned to Matthew’s side, quietly observing him as he lay there.

His eyes were shut tight, his handsome features unchanging, but the slight furrow in his brow revealed his discomfort.

Stella couldn’t resist reaching out to Matthew, gently smoothing his furrowed brows with a soft touch of her fingers.

She traced the contours of his face, savoring every detail.

To her surprise, Matthew’s brows knitted together even more tightly.

Startled by his reaction, Stella quickly pulled her hand away, fearing she had disturbed him.

But as she retreated, Matthew’s hand shot out, grasping hers firmly.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Stella held her breath, her eyes locked on Matthew, who still seemed to be deep in a dream.

Without waking, Matthew guided her hand to his chest, resuming a familiar pose they often shared in their slumber.

The warmth of his heartbeat under her palm brought a rush of nostalgia, and tears welled up in Stella’s eyes.

Despite her fear of disturbing him, she couldn’t bear to withdraw her hand from the comforting closeness of their old routine.

In the dead of night, an uncomfortable pressure disturbed Matthew’s sleep, squeezing the breath from him.

He awakened in a pitch-black room, the only light a weak glow from the nightstand’s Lamp.

As the fog of sleep slowly lifted, he realized he was lying in his own bedroom.