The Mocked Miss’s Hidden Crowns novel Chapter 1983

"Yes!"

Roger answered without a second thought, his voice deep and resolute. "I'll come over tomorrow night."

He had been waiting for those words for over half a year.

"Roger..."

Hearing the absolute certainty in his voice, a wave of panic washed over Stella. Overwhelmed by anxiety, she blurted out his name.

"What is it?"

Roger closed the distance between them, ducking his head slightly to meet her eyes. Catching the flicker of fear and uncertainty in her gaze, he smoothed her hair in a soothing rhythm. "After tomorrow, the sun will still rise in the east."

"..."

Stella's eyes wavered, confused by his words.

"Meaning," Roger leaned in closer, his voice low, steady, and clear, "the world won't change, and I will still be right here by your side."

Just like the sun rising and setting—an eternal constant.

Stella listened quietly, tears blurring her vision.

But she was broken.

She was so, so broken.

She was terrified.

How could someone like her ever be worthy of him?

She didn't know if making this decision, reaching so far out of her league for someone like Roger, was right or wrong.

"Don't cry." Roger reached up with his left hand, gently wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes, his heart aching. "I'll stop talking, alright?"

Stella blinked, nodding pitifully. She slipped out of the oversized coat and held it out to him. "Put it on."

"It's fine."

"If you catch a cold, tomorrow..."

Stella trailed off, lowering her head in silence.

"Alright."

Roger smiled, pulling the coat back on. He squeezed her cold hand. "Go inside. I'll watch you."

"Okay."

Stella didn't argue. Clutching her bag, she jogged toward the entrance.

Soon, her slender figure vanished into the night.

Roger didn't leave immediately. He stood outside the apartment building, waiting until the lights in her window flicked on before finally withdrawing his gaze.

He brushed his hand over the coat, which still carried her faint warmth and scent. A deep, unrestrained smile broke across his usually stoic face.

It was a look of pure, intoxicating devotion.

Not too far away, Veronica watched the entire scene unfold from the shadows.

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