The More She Looked at Stuart, the More She Liked Him

Annette paced the hospital room, circling once around the bed with her hands clasped behind her back, then again toward the window where she stared out in mild boredom.

Stuart finally noticed and quietly set his book down."If you're bored," he offered, "there's a film screening at the hall tonight. It's Friday."

She turned around, narrowing her eyes at him in amusement. "How do you know there's a movie every Friday?"

"Three years ago, I stayed here recovering for six months," he replied honestly, without suspecting anything unusual about her question.

Annette was visibly surprised.Six months? What kind of injury would require this steel-bodied man to be hospitalized that long? He looked like the type to come off an operating table ready to charge straight into battle.

But she didn't dwell on that thought. Instead, her smile turned sly as she looked him over."So… six months, huh? I bet all the lady doctors and nurses were lining up to see you. Bringing you food, keeping you company?"

Stuart frowned and shook his head firmly. "No. A fellow comrade was taking care of me."

Annette tilted her head thoughtfully.Could it be he really never noticed someone had a crush on him?People in this era were so reserved when it came to expressing feelings. Few were bold enough to be as obvious as Charlotte. Even fewer would dare confess outright.

She plopped down at the table, rested her chin on one hand, and asked teasingly, "So... do you even realize there are women who like you?"

His frown deepened. "Don't say things like that. If someone hears, it'll cause trouble."

Yup—confirmed. This man had zero awareness when it came to romance. Oblivious to affection, immune to flirting. A certified block of wood.

Which only made Annette more curious.What would a man like him be like if he ever really fell in love? Would he even realize it? Would that old sweetheart from his village—Claire, wasn't it?—have known how to reach that part of him?

That irritating thought flared in her chest.With a huff, she slapped her palm on the table and stood up. "Fine. Go read your book. I'm going out for a walk."

She stormed off with a pout still clinging to her lips, leaving Stuart blinking in confusion.Wasn't she fine just a minute ago?Then again, her moods always came without warning—like a sudden summer storm.

He sat in silence for a moment, then quietly returned to his book.

Meanwhile, Annette wandered around the hospital, eventually borrowing a couple of light novels from the duty nurse. She returned to her room and flopped onto the bed, refusing to speak to Stuart and burying herself in the pages instead.

Days of busy, structured routines had trained her body well. By the time evening came, she was yawning uncontrollably, the book slipping from her hands as she drifted into sleep.

Stuart, still seated on the other bed, listened carefully to the soft movements from her side of the room.Only when her breathing slowed into a peaceful rhythm did he set his book down and look at her.

Under the golden glow of the bedside lamp, Annette's face lost its usual liveliness.She looked softer, quieter, like a secret wrapped in silk.It made him pause, unable to look away.

Suddenly, she shifted in her sleep, turning toward him, murmuring something he couldn't quite catch.But the pain in her voice, the tension in her brows—he could feel it.

He rose from bed quietly, holding his abdomen where the stitches were, and approached her, ready to wake her from what was clearly a bad dream.

Just then, she murmured again, a little louder."Mama... I want to go home..."

Then she began to cry, soft and heart-wrenching like a child left behind.Stuart froze.

She wants to go home? But her family didn't even want her. They used her—married her off in haste for their own benefit. What kind of 'home' is that?

He turned to go, but before he could step away, her hand reached out and caught his.

Delicate fingers wrapped tightly around his palm.

"Don't go, big brother... I promise I'll be good from now on…"

The words were barely a whisper, but they struck him hard.Stuart stiffened.

She didn't have an older brother—only an elder sister and a younger brother.She had been the neglected middle child, raised away from her family until she was fifteen.So… who was this "big brother" in her dreams?

He tried to pull his hand away gently, but she gripped it tighter, her lips trembling in a childlike pout."I'll tell Mom you're bullying me…"

That voice—soft, spoiled, fragile—so unlike the sharp-tongued woman he'd come to know.

He didn't move. Just stood there, watching her as if she were a puzzle he could almost solve—if only he had all the pieces.

Eventually, Annette's grip loosened. She rolled over, pulling the blanket up and falling back into a deep sleep.

But Stuart didn't sleep at all that night.

His mind ran in circles with too many questions—and not a single answer.

The next morning, Annette awoke from one of the deepest sleeps she'd had in ages.She'd dreamt of her mother... and a brother who used to tease her but always protected her in the end.

When she opened her eyes to the faded walls of the hospital room, a wave of disappointment washed over her.She was still here, in this strange new life where nothing belonged to her.

But after a sigh, she sat up and gave herself a mental pep talk.Time to face the day.

She washed up and went off to get breakfast, cheerfully greeting the nurses and chatting as if she belonged here completely.

Stuart heard her laughing and talking outside, and it struck him again—how quickly she'd built rapport here.In just two days, she was part of the nurses' circle, chatting like old friends.Nothing like the way she'd been at the family compound—cold and disconnected.

He touched his right palm with his left hand.That soft warmth from the night before still lingered faintly.And her dream—big brother, don't leave me…—still echoed in his mind.

Annette returned with reheated fish soup and two golden sticks of fried dough.

As Stuart sat down after washing up, she handed him one. "I heard that if someone knows a bit of basic medicine, they can take a short course and become a nurse at a township clinic?"

He looked puzzled. "You want to be a nurse?"

She shook her head. "No. I want to open a clinic. I mean, don't laugh—I know I don't seem qualified now, but I can learn. I've been watching the nurses here. Giving injections isn't that hard."

In her mind, running a business required capital. But healing people? That just needed skill—and it paid well.And she was broke.

Stuart gave her a thoughtful glance. "Running a clinic takes more than giving injections. You need to understand a lot more than that."

She nodded eagerly, weaving a story based on the original Annette's childhood."I learned some emergency treatment from my grandfather. He was strict, but he taught me a lot. So, I'm not totally clueless, you know."

Stuart had to admit, the story held water.General Preston had indeed been known to dabble in medicine—basic injuries, setting bones, herbal remedies.

It wasn't impossible that Annette, raised under his roof, had picked up a thing or two.

Still, it didn't align with the Annette he remembered from the compound—lazy, aimless, temperamental.

Annette took a bite of her dough stick and smiled, her eyes curving."It's fine. I'll take my time. Once you're better, I'll go study properly."

He gave a soft hum of agreement, though a part of him was secretly relieved that she hadn't brought up divorce again.

She hadn't forgotten about it—but lately, it just didn't feel right to bring it up all the time.Besides, the more she looked at Stuart, the more she liked what she saw.

And who knew?

Maybe one day, her feelings would change.In life, it never hurt to leave yourself a little room to turn around.