Episode 19 — I Think We Were Lovers (10)

“Because I was happy.”
“You didn’t look happy.”
“Oh, that was because I felt nervous.”

When she said that, Ashley tilted his brow.
“So you were happy but also anxious?” he asked slowly, as if checking.

Agathe nodded. She couldn’t hide the worry in her heart from him now. Ashley was cool and blunt, but he never let small things about her slide. His stubborn, careful nature had helped her recover faster — she knew that well — so she added a little more to make sure he wouldn’t misunderstand.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before.”

She felt sure that, in the past, she had never been showered with love or felt fulfilled. Even if she couldn’t recall clear memories, she was certain her past wasn’t soft or sunny — it had been shaded and full of bleakness. That’s why this moment felt so precious to her.

“You’ll stay happy from now on. Don’t worry,” Ashley said, stroking her hair. Her soft hair wrapped around his big hand and then fell loose. The touch made his breath quicken. He wanted to kiss her — to press kisses all over her, to mark her with affection — but he gritted his teeth and let his hand fall away.

He looked at her straight on, like what he was about to say now was important.
“I’ll be moving into the officer’s quarters in two days. So…” He stopped and stared at her.

Agathe couldn’t guess exactly what he planned to say, but she had a faint idea it would be about her.

“How about moving into the quarters with me?” he asked.
“Me…?” she stammered.
“Yes. I want you to move into the quarters with me, Agathe.”

Agathe blinked, repeating his words in her head. Asking her to live together in the quarters didn’t necessarily mean marriage — it just meant they could live under one roof. Still, she didn’t fully understand why he would offer this.

Seeing her confusion, Ashley added calmly, “The quarters are bigger and cozier than the field hospital dorms. It’ll be better for your recovery. If it makes you uncomfortable, you could just stay there until the paperwork from the doctor goes through, for a month. If it’s still uncomfortable after that, you can move to the place the doctor arranges.”

Agathe shut her mouth tight, not answering. Her worry wasn’t the size of the place.

Even if they were lovers, if an unmarried man and woman lived together in the officer’s quarters, it would cause gossip. The quarters weren’t a private home; rumors would spread fast.

“The quarters have a small medical office and even a tiny library. If you step out a bit, there’s a busy area in town — you won’t get bored,” he added, watching her as silence stretched. He grew anxious. He’d decided a week ago to move to the quarters, but only told her now because he’d been cautious. He worried that proposing this was the right thing. What if she refused?

Meanwhile, Hout had offered to find her a place to stay. She could get help from someone else and move wherever she wanted — and that made him feel a tight regret in his chest. He should not have hesitated; he should’ve asked her straight away. If he’d been clear, she wouldn’t have been moved to tears by such a small kindness, and he wouldn’t be so nervous now.

“Are you against moving into the quarters with me?” he asked, not wanting more silence. He wanted her to know he was sincere and wanted her there; he thought that if he showed how much he wanted it, she couldn’t refuse.

“N-no, that’s not it,” she said finally.
“Then why won’t you answer?” he pressed, holding her chin so she looked at him. She lowered her eyes.

“Tell me. What are you worried about?”
“…”
“If you don’t want to be away from me, say so.”

She kept silent stubbornly, and he saw that as almost the same as refusing to move in. He urged her again, his voice low but firm.

“Agathe.”
“If I moved into the quarters with you, people would gossip,” she said at last.

That reason surprised him a little, but his face didn’t change.
“People don’t matter. What matters is that you have a comfortable place to recover. Am I wrong?” he asked, watching her face carefully.

What worried her more than gossip was the daily closeness — living face-to-face every day with him. But she couldn’t bring herself to say that honestly.

“Give me time to think,” she said.
“One hour,” he replied.
“Excuse me? That’s too short.”
“Alright, two hours.”

He offered two hours as a favor when she said an hour was too little. But she still shook her head — one hour or two hours made no difference; she needed a whole day.

“You have to give me a day.”
“Fine. A day.” He backed off and didn’t push further. He’d only mentioned one or two hours to get her to decide quicker; of course, he’d give her a day.

“I’ll go now.” He stood and looked at her.
“See you tomorrow.” He kissed her forehead briefly, then left.

Agathe touched her flushed forehead where he’d kissed her, feeling a little dazed. She’d bought herself a day to decide. What should she do?

Even if they loved each other, unmarried people living together required careful thought. A nurse from the field hospital — a civilian — living with a noble officer in the quarters? They would eat together, sleep under the same roof. Maybe she was overthinking it. Maybe she was imagining things that weren’t there.

He didn’t seem to be thinking anything untoward. He only wanted to give his lover a good place to recover. If that was so, then the answer seemed obvious — but a niggling unease she couldn’t name kept creeping up.

The next morning, Ashley came to her rooms early. Agathe, who hadn’t even washed yet, met him with a flustered face.

“Captain?” she said.
“Maybe I came too early,” he replied.
“No, it’s fine. You’re welcome.”

He’d woken at 4:30 a.m., as he usually did, and endured the gloomy ward in silence. At 7 a.m., like he planned, he folded his newspaper and walked over at a steady pace. Agathe pulled over a chair and sat to face him on the bed.

“I was going to come to your room anyway,” she said, smiling weakly.
“Thank you, Agathe.”
“What would you have said?” she teased.
“How could I not know?” he smiled — he could tell what she was thinking just by looking at her and hearing her breath.

He hadn’t doubted her decision, but he’d still come early because she’d seemed hesitant. He wasn’t sure if she was afraid of rumors or if there was another reason for her hesitation. Whatever it was, he didn’t like her second-guessing.

“That’s why I came,” he said simply, sitting down.

Agathe watched him, nervous. She knew she needed to be honest — but her chest fluttered. He leaned in close and said, softly, “Say it.”

Her reply would decide everything, and the room felt small and intense with meaning.