When Love Comes Late

Just then, a maid came rushing over, a medical kit clutched tightly in her hands.

Seeing Stella still sprawled on the ground, the maid rushed to her side, gently helping her to her feet.

Stella, choking back her pain, managed a polite thank you, her voice barely above a whisper.

The maid’s eyes widened with concern as she noticed the blood trickling down Stella’s leg.

“Mrs.

Clark, your leg is bleeding.

Please, let me tend to it.

”

Stella glanced downward, her eyes catching the jagged wound inflicted by the stone.

Despite the pain, her desire for solace outweighed her concern.

“No need.

I’m leaving.

If Lucia inquires about me, tell her I must attend to something in my studio.

”

As she turned to leave, the maid finally noticed the crimson stain blooming across Stella’s dress, marring the fabric with soil from the garden and her own blood.

“Mrs.

Clark, you really should change first.

Look, your dress is stained,” the maid implored urgently.

Upon seeing the stains, Stella’s brow furrowed in frustration.

After a moment’s hesitation, she acquiesced and followed the maid upstairs to find cleaner attire.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Lindsay and Matthew shared a quiet moment together.

Another maid, holding the medical kit, knelt to tend to Lindsay’s wound.

“Wait,” Lindsay interrupted gently.

The maid froze, swab in hand.

Lindsay cast a pitiful glance at Matthew.

“Matthew, could you please tend to my wound?”

Matthew’s lips tightened as he contemplated her request.

After a brief silence, he nodded in agreement.

He took the swab and approached Lindsay, who couldn’t help but feel a surge of triumph.

However, just as Matthew was about to kneel before her, his phone shattered the silence, slicing through the tense atmosphere.

It was Neville.

With a resigned sigh, Matthew handed the swab back to the maid and turned to Lindsay.

“It’s about work.

Let the maid assist you.

If it feels too uncomfortable, I’ll take you to the hospital for a checkup later,” he explained hastily.

Though Lindsay was seething inside, she masked her irritation with a facade of understanding.

“OK.

Go ahead.

I won’t stand in your way,” she murmured softly.

Matthew nodded once more and retreated to his room without another word.

The moment he was out of sight, the pretense fell away from Lindsay’s face, leaving behind a stark scowl.

Back in his bedroom, Matthew picked up the phone to resume his disrupted call.

Earlier, he had attempted to reach Neville with a pressing question but to no avail.

Perhaps Neville had been preoccupied at that moment.

Now, Neville called back.

As soon as Matthew connected the call, Neville’s voice came through casually.

“What’s up? What can I do for you, Mr.

Clark?”

With straightforward urgency, Matthew inquired, “Were Stella and I close before?”