Chapter 12 - I’ll Build a Real Life with Him

Annette had no interest in admiring the view on the way there. By the time they finally reached the hospital, she felt like her whole body had been shaken apart.

The city hospital had been built decades ago with foreign aid during the Soviet era. After the foreign experts left, the facility had been repurposed into a hospital. The architecture was distinctly Eastern European, with wooden floors and staircases now warped with age.

Annette glanced around curiously—the old faded slogans on the walls felt like a peek into another world. But she didn't have time to linger. She hurried to catch up with Richard and Kyle as they rushed toward the inpatient wing.

Stuart had been assigned a private room. The space was small and shabby—just a chipped steel bedframe, a worn bedside cabinet, and two wooden chairs.

When they entered, they found Charlotte crouched at the bedside, gently wiping Stuart's hands with a towel.

Richard didn't think much of it—Charlotte was a doctor after all. He immediately asked, "What's his condition? Has there been any change?"

Charlotte turned around as if just noticing their arrival, her eyes rimmed red. "They say he's injured his lower back and legs. We won't know if he can stand until he wakes up," she said softly. She then glanced at Annette, her voice growing choked. "It's all my fault. He was hurt saving me."

Annette internally scoffed. Thankfully, neither she nor the original Annette had romantic feelings for Stuart—otherwise, Charlotte's half-truths would've been more than enough to spark misunderstanding.

Richard frowned and walked over to inspect Stuart's still-unconscious form. "He'll be fine. The kid's tough—he's made it through worse. Back in the day, he crossed a minefield and didn't even flinch. This? Nothing."

He turned to Annette, clearly trying to reassure her. "Annette, don't worry. Stuart's got nine lives—like a cat. He'll pull through."

Annette nodded firmly. "I believe he will too."

After a few moments of silent reflection, Richard turned to her again. "It's going to be hard on you these next few days. I'll have Kyle leave you some ration tickets and money. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

Annette, who was secretly relieved to have arrived in the city early, quickly replied, "It's fine. This is what a wife should do."

Richard nodded and left with Kyle to consult the attending physicians. The room fell into silence—just Annette and Charlotte.

Charlotte clearly had no intention of leaving. She smiled softly at Annette. "Sister-in-law, let me stay and help look after him. He got hurt saving me, and besides, I'm a doctor—I know what I'm doing."

Annette curled her lips into a faint, mocking smile. "That might not be a good idea. You're a single young woman—nursing a married man doesn't exactly look good. I wouldn't want your reputation ruined."

Charlotte bit her lip, her eyes welling with tears. "I'm just… worried about him…"

Annette wasn't interested in playing emotional theater with a white lotus. She stepped aside and pointed toward the door. "That won't be necessary. I can manage just fine on my own."

Her tone was cold and firm. Charlotte could only bite her tongue, casting a longing glance at Stuart before reluctantly walking out.

Annette clicked her tongue in annoyance. What happened to "rescuing a fellow villager"? How did it turn into "saving a damsel in distress"?

If Stuart weren't already married, Charlotte would probably have offered herself up by now.

Still, Annette closed the door and walked over to check Stuart's injuries. She turned him gently, lifted his shirt, and saw bruises and scrapes across his back—not life-threatening, but definitely signs of a deeper injury.

She reached out to press along his spine and noticed the old scars crisscrossing his back. One deep knife wound near his waist caught her attention.

Annette had seen all kinds of traumatic injuries before—some even worse than Stuart's. But for some reason, his scars tugged at her heart.

This man, so quiet and reserved, had likely borne all this pain in silence for years.

She refocused and carefully continued her examination. As she slid his pants down to better access his lower spine, her expression turned grim.

Based on her medical instincts, his lumbar spine was intact. With him unconscious, how could they have diagnosed spinal trauma? Something didn't add up.

To be certain, she rolled him over and began palpating his abdomen.

With every press, her heart sank deeper. She didn't even bother pulling his pants back up before bolting out of the room to find a doctor.

In the doctor's office, Richard and Kyle were still discussing Stuart's condition when Annette burst in. "He's suffering from internal bleeding—we need immediate surgery!"

The doctor, who had been speaking gently just a moment ago, scowled. "Are you the doctor here, or am I?"

Annette ignored him and turned to Richard. "Sir, if we don't operate now, Stuart could die. If you don't believe me, get the chief of surgery and call for a full consultation."

The doctor slammed the table and stood up. "Who do you think you are barging in here? If you're so capable, why don't you do the surgery yourself!"

Richard's face darkened. He turned to Kyle and barked, "Get him to the military hospital. Now!"

Kyle immediately ran out to arrange transport.

The doctor panicked and tried to stop them. "What are you doing? I'm the doctor here—you have to follow my lead! If something happens to the patient while you move him, that's on you!"

Richard shoved the man aside and turned to Annette. "Let's go. We're not wasting another second."

Stuart was rushed to the military hospital. Thanks to Richard's longstanding relationship there, the staff quickly ushered Stuart into surgery.

Outside the operating room, Annette heard the diagnosis—it matched her suspicions exactly. Ruptured spleen, excessive internal bleeding. Thankfully, he hadn't gone into shock yet. The surgery came just in time.

She finally exhaled in relief, but her mind kept churning. Even with limited resources, how could a hospital misdiagnose something so obvious?

And if Richard had such good connections with the military hospital, why had Stuart been taken to the city hospital first? It was barely two kilometers away.

Something didn't sit right.

Richard sighed with palpable relief and turned to her. "If it weren't for you, I don't even want to think about what might've happened. Thank you."

Annette shook her head. "It's what I should do. But… why wasn't he brought straight here in the first place? That city hospital was practically negligent. Don't they have other doctors?"

Even if it had been the night shift, there should've been someone better.

And how did someone that incompetent end up as the attending physician?

Even in the most under-resourced areas, this level of malpractice was unacceptable.