Chapter 45

12 hours later, the plane finally landed at Nadi Airport. Stella woke up groggily, finding herself covered with a soft blanket. Her thoughts gradually returned, and suddenly she realized something. She shifted her gaze downward to their intertwined hands—she looked slightly startled and quickly let go. With annoyance furrowing her brows, she pondered: Could it be that her own slightly improper thoughts were so strong that even in her sleep, she couldn't resist bothering him? Ethan glanced at her, lips pressed together lightly, his expression revealing nothing. It was 6 a.m. in Fiji when they disembarked from the plane and retrieved their luggage. After leaving the airport, they got into the car sent by the hotel and made their way to the hotel. After checking in, the young woman at the front desk, with her wheat-colored skin, smiled as she handed the room key to Ethan. Then, she turned to Stella, her attitude quite enthusiastic, and in accented English, she said, "Ma'am, there will be a bonfire party and fireworks display on the beach in front of the hotel the day after tomorrow." Stella didn't expect the woman to specifically remind her. After thinking for a moment, she realized it was probably because they saw her birthday on the registration information. So, she returned the smile and said, "Thank you." Ethan glanced at her expressionlessly, his lips curling up slightly. "Let's go." They had booked a standalone sea-view room, which was a few hundred meters away and required taking the hotel's shuttle bus. The hotel porter pushed the luggage cart, following behind them, responsible for delivering the luggage. As they boarded the shuttle bus, Ethan reached out to hold her hand, but she silently pulled hers back. "What's wrong?" His eyebrows twitched slightly as he lifted his gaze to look at her. "This is abroad, I don't think we need to pretend to be close anymore," Stella sighed and said tactfully. Ethan raised an eyebrow, then drawled, "Pretend to be close?"" Facing his meaningful gaze, Stella hesitated slightly. No matter what, she needed to quell the possessive and unreasonable desire to monopolize him that had emerged within her. Since boarding the plane, she hadn't figured out when this domineering mindset had started. Thinking of this, she added earnestly, "Please don't mind. I'm doing this for your own good." Ethan asked, "For my good?" Stella silently nodded. Ethan was speechless. The frustration in his heart flared up again. After they arrived at the room, the bellboy helped with the luggage and then left. The room was a standalone villa with two floors, and the balcony faced the nearby sea. On the distant horizon, the sun was just peeking out, casting a faint morning glow. The moist sea breeze brushed their cheeks, seemingly washing away a trace of fatigue. After looking around the living room, Stella headed to the bedroom on the second floor. After surveying the room, she raised an eyebrow at the man sitting on the sofa in the sitting area. "Why is there only one big bed?" The man had already taken off his light jacket and changed into pajamas, sitting leisurely. Hearing her question, he raised his eyebrows and casually replied, "Oh, Isaac only knew we were coming for our honeymoon, so he booked a honeymoon suite." "How are we supposed to sleep then?" Stella asked. Ethan glanced at her. "You take the bed, and I'll sleep on the sofa." Stella frowned slightly. Given the man's height and long legs, the sofa in the sitting area was indeed a bit cramped for him. "What, you think I can't make you sleep on the sofa? Or—" the man curled his lips, his voice lazy, "would you prefer to share the bed with me?" Ethan closely observed her expression. These past few days, she had been avoiding him. Suddenly, the originally smooth plan had hit a snag. He didn't dare push her, but he was at a loss. Meeting his gaze, the words Stella was about to say got stuck in her throat. After a brief silence between them, Ethan sighed and said softly, "It's late. Go to sleep." Considering the time, it was already past 1 AM back home. Seeing him take a thin blanket and lie down with his eyes closed, Stella hesitated for a moment before heading to the bedroom next door. ... When Stella woke up again, it was already afternoon local time. She hadn't slept for long. She saw that Ethan was still asleep as she passed through the sitting area. Not wanting to disturb him, she quietly left the room and went to the hotel restaurant to eat alone. Since it was past lunchtime, the restaurant was not very crowded. The menu was mostly seafood. She ordered a recommended dish, the Napoleon fish, and some pasta. She then asked the waiter, "Is there a souvenir shop nearby that you'd recommend?" The waiter thought for a moment and suggested a handmade root carving shop, even enthusiastically showing her a few photos on his phone. When she returned to the room after eating, the man had changed into casual clothes, looking as if he had just finished freshening up. "Hey," greeted Stella. Ethan responded with a casual "hey." As he noticed her picking up her handbag from the coffee table, he furrowed his brows and inquired, "Heading out again?" Stella nodded and smiled at him. "I want to go nearby to buy some gifts for Natalie and Layla. It's not far, and I'll be back soon. Why don't you go to the restaurant and get something to eat?" "You're not eating?" "I already ate," Stella replied. Compared to her previous routine of polite concern, this calm demeanor seemed to show she had lost interest in him. Ethan was increasingly confused by her attitude. After a pause, he said, "Then I'll go with you." Stella hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "No need, it's not far." Without waiting for him to say more, she turned and left the hotel room. ... Once outside, Stella let out a quiet sigh of relief. It had been easier to manage in the villa, but now, under the guise of a "honeymoon trip" in a new environment, she wasn't sure how to face him. The time they spent together had been naturally warm, and just as she realized she should understand his feelings better, she had to admit that she had developed a possessive desire for him despite not being in a relationship. Using an excuse to leave, she went to the souvenir shop recommended by the waiter and picked out two intricately carved root sculptures. Carrying the bag as she left the shop, her mind was still a bit unsettled. Lost in thought, she wandered into a bar by the roadside. The bar was semi-open-air. She sat at the counter and glanced at the drink menu. "One pada, please," she said to the bartender. Although she was just trying to delay her return while enjoying the lively atmosphere, she was well aware of her alcohol tolerance, so she only ordered a low-alcohol cocktail. Her phone buzzed. Stella checked it and found a message from Layla, "How's the honeymoon? If you take the opportunity to get close to him, your worries might disappear." Stella was surprised to see Layla speaking like someone with experience, which made her even more curious. But she really didn't know how to respond to her friend's expectations because she had discovered something even more troubling. She replied, "I think I'm beginning to understand that liking someone can sometimes make it hard to move forward." Her emotional experience had always been passive; she had never been in such a dilemma before. Layla suggested that Stella test Ethan first, but after trying, she found that her relationship with Ethan was too natural. It was the kind of warm and comforting connection she had hoped for, but it didn't feel like a passionate romance. By now, she was starting to prefer the current state over the potential disappointment of clarifying their relationship. She wanted to continue her current relationship with Ethan. Lost in thought, she finished her drink. She took out a bill and handed it to the bartender, who, however, smiled and politely declined. "The gentleman over there has already paid," said the bartender, pointing to a young guy sitting one seat away from her. The guy was dressed in loose sportswear, had a neat short haircut, and looked no older than twenty. He walked over with a friendly smile and extended his hand. "May I have the honor of being friends with the beautiful lady?" His English was not very fluent, but his smile was sincere and pleasant, not off-putting. As he walked over, he had noticed the text on Stella's phone. Stella raised an eyebrow and placed the bill into his hand. "Here's the money for the drink." Americans tended to be more sociable, and she had encountered many such interactions. The guy noticed, paused for a second, then changed his attitude and smiled, showing his teeth. "I don't need that much. Can I transfer the leftover money to you? What's your SnapChat?" Stella hadn't spoken yet— A large hand suddenly appeared, grabbing the young guy's arm just as he was about to take out his phone. A familiar figure came into view, and Stella didn't know why Ethan suddenly appeared here. The guy was suddenly grabbed by someone and seemed a little unhappy, blurting out in a rather impolite tone, "Who are you?" "She is my girl," Ethan said sternly, pointing at Stella, his gaze cold as his blue and deep eyes locked onto the guy, his low voice carrying a warning. "She is my girl" seemed to add a hint of ambiguous tenderness compared to "she is my wife." With a simple reply, but the man's low, husky voice echoed in her heart. Meeting Ethan's deep, calm eyes, Stella tightened her fingertips. This sentence reminded her of a movie she had seen before. In the movie, the female lead asked the male lead why he was so good to her, and he earnestly replied, "you're my girl." At that time, they weren't a couple. Stella sighed in relief, lowered her gaze, and took the man's hand. Looking at the guy from earlier, she said, "Sorry, I'm married." The guy stared at Stella, seeming somewhat incredulous, then silently assessed the two of them for a moment, frowned, straightened his clothes, and said, "Sorry," before turning away somewhat dejectedly. ... On the way back, they walked one after the other. Neither of them spoke. The dusk, mixed with the evening glow, stretched the man's figure long. After a long silence, Ethan, who was walking in front, suddenly stopped his steps. He turned around, his deep eyes like ocean looking at her, and then asked, "Stella, are you drunk now?" Stella looked up at him and shook her head. She had only had a low-alcohol cocktail just now, so how could she be drunk? Ethan seemed a bit uneasy and then asked again, "Will you remember what I'm going to tell you later tomorrow?" Stella was slightly stunned and nodded. "Okay," the man chuckled softly. He sighed in relief, lowered his gaze to look at her, and asked, "You said earlier that you wanted us to be family. So, why do you think I want to be your family?" Stella furrowed her brows, pondered for a while, and then replied, "We get along well." "Why is it just 'we get along well' for me?" Ethan asked. Why? Stella pursed her lips slightly, met his increasingly deep gaze, and subconsciously moved her fingers. The lively street was bustling with crowds, and the rhythmic songs of the band from the nearby bar could be heard. Amidst the cheers, it seemed like only they were standing still, isolated from the noise around them. The man's voice echoed clearly in her ears— "I never thought about leaving this marriage, and I've tried my best to learn how to be a good husband to avoid being heartlessly dismissed by you." Ethan's eyes were deep, his Adam's apple bobbed lightly before he continued, "There are some things I lack experience in, but I've prepared a lot. Unfortunately, I can't wait any longer." Stella looked at him in astonishment and said, "I—" "What, can't you understand?" Ethan pretended to smile lightly, but there was an imperceptible tremor in his voice, "Stella, you're my heart's desire. So, do you still..."