Chapter 49: A Woman Protects Her Own Man

The fleeting intimacy in the room evaporated as Stuart rushed out the door.

Annette cursed under her breath, put down her enamel mug, and quickly followed.

Laura was truly something—she had created this entire mess, and now that the truth was exposed, she tried to drink pesticide and end her life? It was her fault to begin with, yet now it looked like Stuart was the one who drove her to it.

They arrived at Laura's house to find the courtyard already filled with villagers. Inside, Margaret was wailing uncontrollably.

Someone shouted for a vehicle to get her to the hospital. Another ran off to fetch the tractor from the team.

Annette blocked Stuart from rushing inside. "Go fetch a basin of soapy water—if there's no soap, mix in baking soda. One handful to a full basin."

With that, she darted into the house.

She knew very well that Laura hadn't really wanted to die. If she had, she would've taken the pesticide late at night—she'd be cold and stiff by morning. But now? She drank it and was discovered almost immediately.

If she wanted to put on a show, then fine. Let her suffer through the full act.

Inside, Margaret was cradling Laura, sobbing. Two unfamiliar middle-aged women hovered beside her, holding a glass and trying to force Laura to drink some soapy water, but the unconscious Laura had clenched her teeth tightly.

"Take her clothes off and wipe her down with the soap water. This little bit isn't enough. Someone go find a funnel—the kind used for soy sauce or vinegar," Annette ordered, her face cold and authoritative. Her voice carried such weight that no one dared question her.

With no better idea, the women sprang into action—one went to find the funnel while the others began undressing Laura and wiping her down.

The woman who had left soon returned with a large basin of soapy water and a funnel.

Annette climbed onto the bed and knelt by Laura's head. She pressed on the pressure points below Laura's ears, causing her to reflexively open her mouth. Annette shoved the funnel in and shouted for the others to start pouring.

Margaret turned pale with fear. That much soapy water—wasn't it enough to burst her stomach?

As half the basin went down, Laura began vomiting violently.

Annette held her down, pressing her body over the side of the bed to help her expel the contents. Once she was done, Annette ordered another round of soapy water.

After several cycles, Annette felt for Laura's pulse on her neck. It was growing stronger—she would live.

"Now you can take her to the hospital."

Annette jumped off the bed just as Laura began to stir. She hadn't drunk much poison to begin with, but now her stomach felt like it was on fire, and her throat was raw and burning. She couldn't even speak.

Margaret rushed to her daughter, pulling the blanket over her trembling form and sobbing, "What were you thinking, child? What could be so terrible you'd try to take your life? If something happened to you, how would I go on?"

Laura stared blankly at the ceiling. Of all people, she hadn't expected Annette to be the one who saved her.

She just couldn't bear the shame of being exposed in front of everyone by Stuart. She had nothing left—not even her illusions.

Annette winced, rubbing her wrist. She'd strained it earlier and now it throbbed faintly. She was about to leave when Laura rasped, "Mom, please leave. I want to talk to Annette alone."

Margaret hesitated, then looked at her daughter's pale, lifeless face and glanced at Annette before wiping her eyes and ushering the others out.

Annette hadn't planned on entertaining Laura, but now that she was asked to stay, she figured she might as well have her say, too.

She flexed her wrist and turned back. "Say what you need to say."

A tear slid from the corner of Laura's eye, full of sorrow and despair. "If it weren't for you, Stuart would've married me."

Annette raised an eyebrow. Where did this girl get her confidence? "Too bad life doesn't work on 'what ifs.' Your little stunt today? Utterly pointless."

Laura's tears flowed harder. "You don't know anything. The Zhou family owes me. Stuart owes me."

Annette stared at her serene, delicate face—how could someone so pretty talk such nonsense? She didn't bother with sympathy.

"It was your mother who saved Stuart's life, not you. He's repaid that debt over the years. Or is he supposed to serve your family for the rest of his life?"

She paused and added coldly, "I saved your life today. I don't want your thanks. I just want you to stay away from Stuart. Try another stunt like this and I won't be so kind next time. If you want to die, go do it far away. Don't expect Stuart to feel guilty forever. That's not going to happen."

"He won't mourn you. He'll forget you soon enough—because he'll be busy taking care of me and our children. He won't have time for irrelevant people."

"So let me make this clear: I'm not a saint. And if you pull something like this again, I won't save you."

With that, Annette turned and left, not bothering to watch Laura break down under the weight of her own imagined heartbreak.

The man who was clumsy with words, awkward with feelings—that man had been chosen by Annette.

And when she chose someone, he was hers to protect. No one else had the right to hurt him.

When Annette stepped outside, the courtyard was still full of people. Stuart stood among them. As soon as she appeared, all eyes turned to her.

Word had spread—Annette was the one who saved Laura. And thanks to Aunt Susan, everyone also knew that Stuart had never dated Laura. It was all made up.

The tide of sympathy shifted from Laura to Stuart.

Annette, still fuming, marched over to Stuart. "Let's go. Home."

Without a word, Stuart obediently followed.

The villagers watched them leave, not knowing what to say. But in their hearts, one thought was crystal clear:

Stuart's wife? She was formidable.

As they walked through the village gate, Stuart finally spoke, "Thank you."

Annette shot him a glare. "What for? Was Laura ever your girlfriend?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Then why are you thanking me?" Annette huffed. "She's insane. Who drinks pesticide over something like this? If anything, this just gives you more reason to stay away."

Stuart muttered, "We had nothing going on."

Annette rolled her eyes playfully. "I know. But if she had died, then suddenly it would look like you two did have something. People would be telling tales about how a stunning girl once died for you. How romantic!"

Stuart, awkward as ever, pressed his lips together and stayed silent.

Annette loved it when he couldn't talk back. She stopped walking and held out her hand. "I hurt my wrist. Rub it for me."

He stopped, eyes flicking between her delicate wrist and the path, where a few villagers were still wandering past. He hesitated...