Chapter 479
[ 492 words ]
Chapter 479:
She rose carefully and kissed him first. It was not frantic, not a repetition of the night before, not another attempt to turn fear into bruises and heat. It was slow, deliberate, and painfully restrained, a farewell he could carry without either of them breaking further.
He answered it with the same restraint, bending toward her because he could not pull her closer. His mouth lingered on hers, warm and steady, and when they finally parted, his forehead rested briefly against hers.
“That’s your proper farewell,” she whispered.
His eyes opened. “No. That’s the first installment.”
𝖠𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝘦 со𝗆𝘮𝗎𝘯i𝘁𝘺 𝗼n 𝘨a𝘭𝘯𝘰𝗏e𝗹𝗌.𝗰о𝗺
Despite herself, she smiled.
A sharp call came from outside the tent. “Colonel Romero. Convoy is forming up.”
The moment ended.
Jarrod closed his eyes once, as if locking something away. Then he stood, slowly, carefully, every movement shaped around the brace and the splinted hand. His uniform was not crisp, his boots were not polished, and his hair had only been dragged into order by someone else’s comb or his own stubborn attempt with the heel of his left palm. He looked like a wounded officer going back to war, not a man magically restored by dawn.
Caroline rose with him. Her body ached, but not from another reckless night. It was the ordinary ache of healing bruises, shallow sleep, and the weight of saying goodbye before she was ready.
He turned at the tent flap. His face had already changed, the tenderness shuttered behind discipline. Colonel Romero had returned.
“Stay safe,” he said.
“You too.”
His eyes held hers for one last second. Then he stepped out into the floodlit dark.
Caroline followed as far as the entrance, one hand gripping the canvas flap. She watched him cross the camp toward the waiting vehicles, his stride controlled but not effortless, his injured arm fixed against his chest. K.C. appeared at his side with a clipboard and a field jacket draped over one arm. Jarrod accepted the report with a curt nod, not touching it, letting K.C. hold it where he could read.
The convoy engines rumbled to life.
He did not look back until he reached the lead vehicle. Then, just before climbing in with awkward, careful precision, he turned his head.
Across the distance, through dust and floodlight and the rising growl of engines, their eyes met.
Caroline lifted her chin.
He held her gaze for one heartbeat longer, then disappeared into the vehicle.
The convoy rolled out at first light, tires grinding over gravel, taillights burning red through the gray dawn. Caroline stood there until the last truck vanished beyond the perimeter.
Only then did she let the tent flap fall from her fingers.
She swung her legs over the side of the cot, her knees threatening to buckle. She shot another glare at Jarrod, who was watching her with an infuriatingly smug grin.
She grabbed a clean set of scrubs from her pack. “I’m going to the wash station to change.”
“Change here,” he said. It wasn’t a request.
She stopped, turning to look at him in disbelief. “Are you insane?”
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