Stella had a dream.
In the dream, it was a midsummer night, the moon hanging high in the sky, the southern wind warm, and the sound of cicadas filling the air.
About four or five years old, she fell in an abandoned garden. Her sky-blue gauze dress had a tear, and her right knee was scraped and bleeding.
To her, the overgrown bushes were towering, the surroundings pitch black, and not a soul in sight. Little Stella sat on the ground, holding her short leg, sobbing and wiping her tears.
A voice called out from a distance, "Stella!" It was a boy's voice, anxious and breathless.
Stella froze, her small body trembling violently, and finally couldn't help but burst into tears, "Brother! Boo hoo… I'm here! Brother!"
The boy ran over, sweating profusely, his face indistinct in the dim light, "How did you end up here… did you fall?"
"Brother!" Stella threw herself into his arms, crying uncontrollably, "It hurts… hic, it hurts…"
The boy patted her back with one hand and lifted her leg to check the injury with the other.
The wound was large and would likely leave a scar.
"Brother," Stella said with teary eyes, her chubby little hand holding her knee, "blow on it, please."
The eleven or twelve-year-old boy was just entering his teenage years, a time when "manly consciousness" was fully awakened. He prided himself on being strong and tough, and "blowing on it" seemed too mushy for a man.
"Stella, be good. Let's go home. Once we put some medicine on it, it won't hurt anymore."
Stella felt wronged. She was willing to do anything for her brother, but he wouldn't even blow on her wound. Her little mouth quivered, and big teardrops fell, hitting the ground with a splash.
The boy, forgetting his manly pride, quickly bent down and blew gently on her knee, "Don't cry, don't cry. Brother's blowing on it. The pain will fly away…"
Under the vast sky, with stars twinkling above, a small girl lay on the boy's back, her soft cheeks pressed against his sweaty shoulder and neck. "Brother, I'm glad you came. I was so scared alone."
"Don't be afraid. No matter where you go, I will always find you."
…
The scene gradually blurred, but the warm and reassuring feeling remained clear as Stella woke up, finding herself in Leo's arms.
The sunlight filled the room, wrapping them in its glow as they held each other closely, their legs entwined under the covers.
"What's wrong?" Leo's warm breath brushed her forehead, his voice hoarse with sleep.
"Nothing," Stella's ears burned as she wriggled slightly in his arms, "Did I wake you?"
Leo naturally let her go, "No, the sunlight is too bright."
Stella murmured an "oh," and rolled to the other side of the bed.
The side of the bed that had been empty all night was cold to the touch, with the clean scent of laundry detergent lingering on the pillow. Somehow, it felt like something was missing. Stella rubbed her face against the bedding, regretting her move; Leo's side seemed more comfortable.
"What time is it?" Leo asked.
Stella checked her phone, "Nine-thirty."
Leo sat up, clearing his head, then got out of bed.
As soon as the bathroom door closed, Stella sneaked back into Leo's side of the bed. The fresh woody scent surrounded her nose, and she contentedly rubbed against the pillow, her feet happily kicking under the covers.
How embarrassing, like a love-struck fool. Stella blushed, listening to the sounds from the bathroom. When the water stopped, she reluctantly squirmed a few more times before quickly darting back to her side of the bed just as Leo opened the door.
When Leo returned to the bed to grab his phone, he noticed that his previously smooth pillow was now a crumpled mess, as if a little lazy cat had been playing there.
He glanced at Stella, who was lying still with her eyes tightly shut, pretending to be asleep, and then at the disheveled bed. A smile tugged at his lips as he quietly smoothed out the evidence.
Having slept late the night before, Stella was still drowsy when she woke up again around eleven.
As she got up to wash up, she glanced at the scar on her knee and recalled the dream. It felt strangely real, even though it was a scene she had never experienced, conjuring up an imaginary older brother.
Laughing to herself, Stella changed and left the room.
Leo was already working in the study again. Stella, thinking about how hard he worked, went to the kitchen to help the housekeeper, Mrs. Frank.
Mrs. Frank was a cheerful local with a knack for cooking and loved to chat.
"Oh dear, Mr. Leo used to be so busy, I thought he'd never settle down. But look at him now, married to such a lovely girl!" Mrs. Frank beamed.
Stella blushed, "Have you been helping him for a long time?"
"Yes," Mrs. Frank replied, "since he returned from abroad, nearly six years now."
"Your cooking must be amazing then!" Stella exclaimed.
Mrs. Frank laughed heartily, "Well, Mr. Leo is quite easy-going, even though he looks serious. He's also very tidy, making my job easier!"
Stella nodded, "He's really great."
Mrs. Frank added, "And you're wonderful too. You two are a perfect match!"
Stella smiled shyly, "You can just call me Stella. That's what my family calls me."
"Alright, Stella," Mrs. Frank agreed, then asked, "Do you like spicy food?"
"I do," Stella replied, curious, "How did you know?"
"Mr. Leo, of course," Mrs. Frank said, her smile deepening. "He recently changed the menu to include more spicy dishes. He's always had a mild palate, so I guessed it was for you!"
"Really?" Stella looked down, feeling shy.
Mrs. Frank noticed her reddening face, "See, Mr. Leo really cares about you!"
Footsteps approached, and Leo entered, "What are you talking about?"
"About how you changed the menu," Mrs. Frank said, "Stella is very touched!"
Leo glanced at Stella, "Is that so?"
Stella mumbled a vague response, feeling embarrassed. She spotted some cucumber slices on the counter and quickly grabbed one, holding it up to his mouth, "Do you want to try? It's sweet."
… Sweet? Stella looked down at the floor, wishing she could find a crack to hide in.
Mrs. Frank chuckled.
Leo, as composed as ever, took the "very sweet" cucumber from her hand and ate it before turning to leave.
Just as Stella was about to breathe a sigh of relief, Mrs. Frank remarked, "Stella, Mr. Leo is so good to you!"
Stella: ?
"Mr. Leo doesn't like the taste of cucumber. He never eats it!" Mrs. Frank said.
Stella's eyes widened, "But… I saw you slicing it…"
"That was for the Kung Pao chicken I'm making for you!"
Stella facepalmed. She felt like such an idiot.
After lunch, Mrs. Frank left, and Stella and Leo sat on opposite ends of the couch, silently watching a popular variety show rerun.
Stella thought Leo would soon return to his study, but as she finished the fruit platter, Leo remained calmly on the couch.
"Do you have work this afternoon?" she finally asked.
Leo countered, "Do you need something?"
Most of his urgent work was done, and he had some rare free time today. If his little wife needed company, he could make time.
"No, no," Stella shook her head, "I was just asking."
Leo was silent for a few seconds before answering, "I have some… loose ends to tie up."
"Then you should get to it!" Stella said considerately, "I can manage on my own. You don't have to worry about me."
Leo didn't respond, sat for a while longer, then left.
Stella washed the empty fruit platter, turned off the TV, and sat on the thick carpet to read her thesis.
About half an hour later, Leo came out of the study with a cup in hand, "I'm making coffee. Do you want milk and sugar?"
Stella smiled, "You drink it, Leo. I don't need any."
"No trouble," Leo insisted, "Half sugar, okay?"
Having coffee together could be a nice chance to chat.
Stella scratched her chin, "Actually, coffee makes my heart race…"
Leo froze for a moment, nodded, and left.
About twenty minutes later, she saw him pour another cup of coffee. When their eyes met, she smiled at him before returning to her book.
By the third time Leo went to refill his cup, Stella watched his back, frowning slightly.
Too bitter.
Leo took a sip of coffee and set the cup aside. He didn't like coffee and usually only drank it to stay awake during late-night work sessions.
The trash can already held two cups of coffee, and he was debating whether to dump the third.
His desk was empty. He sat idly, his mind elsewhere.
He wondered what she was doing outside.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
Leo quickly sat up straight, grabbed a proposal, and opened it. "Come in."
The door slowly opened, and Stella sidled in, holding a glass teapot in one hand and a glass teacup in the other.
She placed them on his desk, "Leo, too much coffee can keep you up at night. I made some fruit tea with a bit of mint to refresh you."
The fruit tea looked great, vibrant and rich in ingredients.
Leo looked into her clear eyes, remembering the coffee in the trash. He felt a pang of guilt. He opened his mouth, and the man who was always eloquent at the negotiation table could only muster, "So much?"
Stella looked innocent, "I saw you refilling water constantly, so you seemed really thirsty… This way, you won't have to leave the room and can save time!"
Leo sighed, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Stella beamed, reminding him, "When you finish it, let me know, and I'll bring another pot."
Leo took a sip of the tea. It was sweet and refreshing, indeed invigorating. But he felt a bittersweet ache in his heart, a sense of something missing, leaving him unsettled.
As he prepared to get a head start on next week's work, the door knocked again.
Stella entered with a bright smile, holding a box of chips.
"Leo," she said, "want to watch a movie together?"
The tea's fragrance dispelled his gloom.
Leo nodded, "Okay."