My Husband Is a Gary Stu

Fortunately, there was a subway station near the hospital, about 500 meters away. It was currently evening rush hour, and both the subway station and the train carriages were packed with people.

Charlotte hated crowded places, fearing that her delicate coat would get dirty, but Sasha was very excited.

When the subway arrived at the station, one group exited and another boarded, pushing Charlotte further inside the train.

Jerry held Sasha with one arm while supporting himself on the subway's side door with the other hand, making sure that he had a grip on something when the train started moving so that he wouldn't fall.

His fingers were long and defined, with veins subtly visible on the back of his hand, as if they were the proudest work of an artist's brush.

The girls around them were quietly discussing how attractive his hands were.

Charlotte also glanced at his hand a couple of times. It was indeed good-looking. If he were to work as a hand double on a film crew, he would most likely start with a five-figure salary per day. That hand could easily wrap around her waist, making her feel as if she were dizzyingly intoxicated.

No wonder there were more people with hand and voice fetishes than face-judgers, she thought.

The train jolted twice before departing. Charlotte had no handrail to cling to. She swayed to the side without even realizing it, like a lotus leaf floating in water.

Before she could fall onto someone else, Jerry quickly wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his embrace and entwining her hand around his own waist. His other hand supported them by pressing against the upper part of the car door.

Charlotte huffed, “I didn't want to hug you; it was you who forced me to.”

The two of them took Sasha for a stroll around a commercial street before entering a pizza shop. Jerry put on a pair of gloves after a waiter delivered the snack platter they had ordered. To prevent the kid from biting into a bone and damaging her teeth, he started taking out the bones from the hot wings.

“Uncle Jerry is wonderful. He's handsome and gentle as well,” Sasha said, eating a chicken wing the man had deboned for her, her mouth smeared with oil. “I feel like Aunt Charlotte doesn't even deserve you.”

Charlotte scowled. “Am I not beautiful? Why don't I deserve Jerry?”

Sasha licked an oil stain on the corner of her mouth. “Mom said you're dramatic and your temper's bad; that's why you're still not married,” she said sweetly.

“Your mom is speaking nonsense.” Charlotte flicked her long hair disdainfully and continued, “I just don't want to get married, otherwise...”

Sasha blinked. “Otherwise what?”

“Hurry up and eat your fries,” Charlotte grumbled as she shoved the fries into her niece's constantly chattering mouth.

She took a quick glance at Jerry across from her, but the man's face showed no particular expression.

After their spaghetti bolognese was served, Charlotte took a bite and found it to be quite tasty. She then scooped up another spoonful to feed Jerry, who was sitting across from her.

Jerry didn't open his mouth; he just lifted his head to look at Charlotte. “Didn't you already eat your fill earlier?”

“I only had a potato.” And that baked potato wasn't even big. After walking around the subway station for a while and then going shopping, she was simply exhausted and hungry.

Jerry gave her a long, cool stare.