When Love Comes Late

Her gaze moved upward to a distinguished, handsome face.

Sanford?

Stella’s eyes widened in shock as she said, “What are you doing here?”

Sanford’s eyes sparkled as he teased, “I’d hate to miss watching you try to drink away your troubles.

”

Stella chuckled nervously.

Without saying more, Sanford took a seat beside Stella and waved for a waiter.

“Can I assist you, sir?” the waiter asked kindly.

Sanford looked at Stella’s hurt hand and replied, “Could you bring some rubbing alcohol and a bandage, please?”

Following Sanford’s gaze, Stella noticed the wound on her hand, immediately grasping his intention.

Yet, her feelings were in turmoil at that instant.

Seeing her injury, she could not help but recall the incident at the Clark family home.

Matthew used to panic over even the tiniest cut, insisting on a trip to the hospital.

But those days were long gone…

Bitterness washed over her.

While she was deep in her thoughts, the waiter had already set down everything required to tend to the wound.

Snapping back to reality, Stella responded with a polite yet distant tone, “It’s just a small cut; it’s nothing to worry about.

”

Sanford replied sincerely, “While a hand injury might seem trivial to most, for a woman and a designer, even a small wound can be significant.

”

Stella began to speak in protest, but no words came to her.

Sanford offered a comforting smile, and then looked at Stella with intent and gently suggested, “If it is alright with you, may I assist in dressing it?”

A bit lightheaded from the drinks, Stella thought she caught a trace of affection in Sanford’s eyes.

She averted her gaze and promptly refused, saying, “No, it’s fine.

I can handle it myself.

”

Sanford nodded and passed Stella the first aid supplies with respect.

Stella opened the package and carefully used an alcohol-soaked cotton swab to clean the wound.

As Stella tended to her injury, Sanford’s expression darkened.

He then broke the silence with a casual tone.

“I heard Matthew has returned?”