Chapter 48: Annette Faces Her Feelings

Chapter 48: Annette Faces Her Feelings Honestly

Laura flushed with embarrassment and anger, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at Stuart. "It was all just me being delusional. You don't have to ask anymore. I misread everything. I thought you helped out at our house because you liked me."

"I thought you bought things for my mom because you were fond of me! I thought you taught me how to write because you had feelings for me. Turns out it was all in my head. I won't make that mistake again!"

She covered her face and ran off, sobbing.

Annette raised her eyebrows in mild admiration. She had to admit, Laura had some skill—those final words perfectly positioned Stuart on a moral high ground, making him look cold and heartless.

And she wasn't entirely wrong. If Stuart didn't have feelings for her, why had he helped with chores, bought things, and even taught her to read and write?

Stuart frowned and turned to Aunt Susan. "Aunt Susan, do you remember when I fell off a cliff while gathering goat dung in the mountains as a kid? It was Aunt Margaret who saved me and carried me home."

Aunt Susan, still a bit dazed, quickly nodded. "Of course I remember! She brought you back covered in blood. We thought you wouldn't make it."

Suddenly, everything clicked in her mind. So, Stuart had only been helping Laura's family to repay a life-saving debt?

Goodness. If that was true, then all of Laura's claims were just slander.

Maybe she never took care of Stuart when he was sick. And those army boots? Maybe she bought them for herself.

The more Aunt Susan thought about it, the clearer things became. A relieved smile spread across her face. "I knew it. We watched you grow up, Hopewell. You're not the kind of young man to play around and abandon someone. That's just not who you are."

Stuart corrected her sternly. "Aunt Susan, there was no playing around or abandoning. There was never anything between us. Everything was aboveboard."

She nodded absentmindedly. "Right, right, I believe you. You two carry on. I need to go feed the chickens."

She hurried off, eager to spread the news—who would've thought someone as seemingly honest as Laura could cause such a stir?

Once Aunt Susan left, Grace looked a bit uneasy. She frowned at Stuart. "Second, Laura is still a young woman. If Aunt Susan spreads this around, how is Laura supposed to face anyone?"

Stuart didn't understand. "I'm just telling the truth. If a mistake has been made, it should be corrected before it gets worse."

Annette was in the best mood of all. Stuart's blunt, emotionally tone-deaf remarks were amusing enough to make her nearly laugh out loud.

Grace didn't argue further. She was more worried now that Laura might turn around and target Carl. With a dark expression, she returned to Nancy's room.

Stuart turned and took in the scene: Aunt Spring still holding a rolling pin, a sulking young boy—George—and Annette standing quietly to the side.

Based on what he knew of Annette, she wouldn't willingly chat with people she didn't know.

"What happened?"

Aunt Spring wasn't about to protect her son. "This little brat tied firecrackers to a cat's tail to scare Annette."

She raised the rolling pin threateningly. "I ought to beat the living daylights out of you!"

Stuart's face darkened as he turned to George. He didn't raise his voice, but the intensity of his gaze made George shrink back. "Apologize!"

His tone was sharp and absolute.

George's eyes reddened as he slowly approached Annette. He hadn't fully grasped what had happened earlier, but he knew one thing: his second uncle would defend Annette, but not Aunt Laura.

He stammered, "Auntie… I'm sorry."

Annette didn't bother softening her stance. At fifteen, George wasn't a little child. "Like I said before—if you don't like me, say it to my face. But hurting a kitten? That's a life, too. So I'm not the one you should apologize to."

With that, she turned and went back to the well to wash her clothes, leaving George standing there, flushed and frozen.

Aunt Spring gave him a solid whack with the rolling pin. "Go find that cat right now!"

—

Annette hummed as she scrubbed laundry, her mood light and content. It probably had a lot to do with knowing that Stuart and Laura had never dated—and the fact that she genuinely liked Stuart.

She liked his body too, and she had never been shy about going after what she wanted.

Her recent awkwardness had all stemmed from Laura. After all, Stuart's marriage to the original Annette had no emotional foundation. If he still had feelings for Laura, her affection would feel forced and embarrassing.

Three people in a relationship were one too many.

But now, Annette was truly happy—so much so that she was scrubbing the laundry with extra vigor.

Stuart stood in the courtyard, watching Annette aggressively scrub the clothes. She wasn't using a washboard, just brute strength and raw determination. Clearly, she had some pent-up frustration.

He rubbed his nose, utterly clueless about what had upset her. Deciding not to poke the bear, he quietly returned to the house.

Annette finished washing the clothes and hung them to dry. She gathered her things and returned to the house, only to find Stuart neatly folding his military coat.

She found it a bit strange—why fold it so precisely when they were at home? Even the corners were perfectly crisp.

The enamel mug on the table was new, but everything else looked untouched. So… had he been folding clothes the entire time?

Seeing that Annette didn't seem angry, Stuart pointed at the mug. "I poured that for you."

Annette didn't stand on ceremony. She picked it up—warm enough to heat her hands. She hadn't realized how icy the well water had been until her fingers went numb.

As she cradled the mug, she looked at him curiously. "You really didn't know Laura liked you?"

Stuart shook his head. "I had no idea."

That's why it puzzled him—how did everyone else know something he didn't?

Annette sighed. Yep, a total blockhead. "You two grew up together. She's pretty. You never liked her, not even a little?"

Stuart shook his head again. Before enlisting, he'd focused on studying. Once in the military, it was all about training and survival. He'd even spent years on the front lines. Who had time for romance?

Annette was incredulous. "So all these years, you've never liked any girl? Not even someone from a song-and-dance troupe? A nurse?"

If he had met women, those would've been the types.

Stuart looked increasingly uncomfortable. His ears were burning. "No."

Annette adored how stiff and awkward he became whenever feelings were brought up. He was always calm and capable in front of others, but turned into a bashful mess when it came to emotions.

Exactly her type.

She smiled brightly, lifted the lid from the mug, and took a sip.

It was sweetened water—with actual sugar.

Stuart had no idea why she was smiling, but suddenly the room felt ten degrees warmer. Just as he was thinking about stepping out for some air, someone outside shouted:

"Hurry! Laura from Aunt Margaret's house just drank pesticide!"