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One day, his mom even liked my post.

With the biggest obstacle removed, all future joys and sorrows will be our own fortune.

I used to think that true love existed in this world but just didn’t belong to me. After meeting my stuttering boyfriend, I realized that no one is unworthy of love.

Maybe I shouldn’t doubt the matchmaking skills of the deity of love; I should believe that everyone has their own stuttering partner.

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The Stuttering Boyfriend’s Perspective

Meeting An An^[1]TL’notes: AN AN from Hong an’s name. Probably an intimate way of calling his baby. is something I can only attribute to fate, or perhaps it’s heaven compensating me for all the years I’ve been hurt by stuttering.

That night at the bar, I had just broken up three days before. I had been too busy with work to feel sad in those three days. After I finished my work, I thought I’d go to the bar to unwind.

Honestly, I felt a bit like I was about to throw caution to the wind and just find someone for a one-night stand, but once I got there, everyone looked unappealing.

When I first entered the bar, I saw An An sitting alone at the bar, cradling his drink. His gaze was vacant, and his expression was distant, clearly out of place in that environment.

These are things I reflected on later. At that moment, I was feeling irritable and frustrated, thinking that feeling superior was the only fitting mindset for the situation.

I pushed my way through the crowd and walked straight to the bar, deliberately acting aloof as I ordered a drink. With the mix of disappointment and dejection I felt, along with my naturally stern appearance, I probably managed to pull off a cool demeanor.

After that, several people came over to chat me up—some were direct and flirtatious, some were lively and fit, and some were shy and serious. I even had someone tell me I was cute, offering me a choice.

But I wasn’t interested in any of them; in fact, I probably wasn’t really looking to date anyone.

The only person I cared about was An An, who kept catching my eye every time I turned my head. I was waiting for him to come over and talk to me.

What’s amusing is that at that time, I wasn’t actually thinking of taking him home; it felt like a game that made the bar seem more interesting.

But I waited and waited, nearly getting drunk, and he never came over, though his gaze remained glued to me. I couldn’t tell whether the people approaching me were bolder or if he was just more straightforward.

Feeling bored, I decided to leave. Before I walked away, I glanced at him, and he followed me to the bus stop.

I didn’t know what to do; I seemed to have genuinely caught his interest.

Standing side by side on the street, even though there was a bit of distance between us, it was still much closer than in the bar. I turned my head or glanced sideways, thinking he was really good-looking.

I had a naughty thought and wanted a comforting embrace.

So I invited him over, but worried that my stutter would scare him away, I deliberately slowed down my speech to maintain my cool persona.

When he agreed, I was stunned; I didn’t expect to really bring a stranger home.

I felt a bit nauseous from the alcohol, and memories of my ex-boyfriend mocking my stutter kept resurfacing in my mind, making me angrier and angrier.

When we first got together, I had said I could accept dating again.

Looking at the stranger, An An, I suddenly wanted to ask him, “Do you think my stutter is a turn-off?”

The stranger was momentarily stunned, but he quickly grabbed my hand and said he didn’t mind. He leaned in to kiss me, but I didn’t respond, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably.

It had been so long since anyone had listened to me earnestly; finally having someone to confide in, I told him everything without reservation.

When I woke up the next day, memories flooded back, and I didn’t regret a bit.

I thought I’d make him breakfast and then let him leave, cutting off all ties from there.

He sat at the dining table, staring at me. Unlike the night before, this time he was open about it and even wore a strange smile.

It felt like a good boy had turned into a rogue.

I felt like a damsel in distress, about to be teased.

I didn’t expect him to be such a decent man on the surface but so shameless when flirting.

He teased me, laughed at me, and even took advantage of the situation.

I never said I wanted him to be my boyfriend!

But when he asked me in return, I said, “Let’s give it a try.”

I found him adorable and recalled his tenderness from the night before.

At that moment, I thought he might make a good partner.

But no matter how many elaborate excuses I came up with, I couldn’t hide the fact that I was treating him as a remedy for my heartbreak.

I realized I was acting impulsively and “going with the flow.”

Then I proactively exchanged names with him. As he was leaving, he said he wanted to check the note I gave him.

I seriously pondered it.

Sweetheart? Wifey? Too frivolous and dismissive. Just a simple heart? Too cliché.

Little cutie? A bit nauseating.

In the end, I settled on his name, and “Little An An” almost immediately popped into my mind. I happily typed out those four characters.

He clearly liked it.

In the first few days of being together, I somewhat regretted my impulsiveness because An An was really too good. I couldn’t even say I liked him; I was just casually occupying him, which felt completely irresponsible.

I began to treat him well seriously. If we were going to break up, at least I hoped he would be happy during our time together.

I considered whether I should cut things off quickly so as not to waste his time, but I ultimately didn’t say it out loud.

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