Chapter 1

After the breakup, I left everything I knew behind—dragging a ruined right hand and paralyzed legs with me.

I disappeared. Accepted my discharge, changed my name, opened a small pharmacy near the border.

I didn’t see Lucas Hayes again until five years later.

An officer came in to pick up a prescription and told me, “Major General Hayes never married. All these years, he’s been waiting for you.”

The words had barely left his mouth when Lucas walked in.

His uniform was immaculate, sharp enough to command attention the instant he stepped through the door.

Five years hadn’t dulled his looks.

The boyish sharpness had been worn away, replaced by something heavier—an authoritative presence that filled the room.

He stood in the dimness, watching me. For a long moment, he looked like he had a thousand things to say.

But in the end, all of it collapsed into a single, gentle greeting.

“Evelyn.” A pause. “It’s been a while.”

“Yes. It has.”

I answered quietly, my expression smooth and undisturbed, no trace of reunion warmth, no ripple of emotion at all.

My mind drifted back five years—to when his adopted sister claimed the ointment I’d prescribed had given her a nasty infection.

Lucas had flown into a rage.

He crushed the hand I used to hold a scalpel.

Then he took the intimate photos from our relationship and plastered them across the base’s internal network.

The caption read: [Tested and approved. Tested and approved. Great tits, great fuck, screams loud. Free for the taking.]

His guys tried to talk him down.

“You’re about to marry her. Why the hell are you doing this?”

Lucas’s expression didn’t change.

“She gave Vivian Hayes the wrong meds—infected her with something that nearly made her kill herself. And she won’t even fucking admit it. She’s unfit to be a medical officer.”

“I’m just scaring her. I’m not actually gonna hand her over to catch some disease.”

I stood in the doorway, pale, and locked eyes with him.

His gaze held no trace of guilt as he reached out and ran his fingers through the ends of my hair.

“You made a mistake, Evelyn. So you’re going to suffer a little.”

“Cure Vivian. Apologize to her face.”

“Do that, and I’ll still marry you.”

I swallowed every tear and hit “forward” on the link he’d posted.

A second later, a private message popped up: [I’ll take her.]

Lucas’s face darkened. He crushed the wine glass in his hand.

The officers around him instantly fell silent.

Someone whispered, “Sir… maybe we should—this is getting out of hand…”

Lucas turned to look at me.

“So, Evelyn. You ready to apologize yet? ”

I lowered my eyes and walked toward the other end of the corridor.

Behind me, I heard his cold, cruel joke.

“ Relax. Evelyn’s fine with it. She offered, didn’t she? I’d be rude to say no.”

I walked out of the Officers’ Club slowly.

People in the hallway whispered and pointed as I passed.

My hands and feet went ice cold.

A drunk man lunged at me, wrapped his arm around my waist, spewing filth into my ear.

“So you’re into sick guys, huh? Well, you’re in luck, sweetheart—just tested positive for HIV.”

I screamed and struggled. The military spouses passing by dodged away in disgust.

Their whispers landed like needles.

“That’s her, isn’t it? The promiscuous medic from the infirmary. Disgusting.”

“She deserves it. She posted that ad herself, and now she has the nerve to cry for help.”

I trembled, my voice raspy and desperate.

“My husband—he’s a Major General! You can’t—if you touch me, he’ll—”

“You have a husband and you’re still looking for dirty hookups online? Everyone’s seen your chat logs. No soldier would want you.”

He shook his phone in my face, the screen’s glare stinging my eyes.

“Yeah? Then call him. Let’s see if he gives a shit.”

Before he could finish, the door to the private room at the end of the hall opened.

Lucas walked out with several officers.

The moment I saw him, tears surged up.

“Lucas! Help me!”

He didn’t even look at me. Just smiled at the drunk.

“Nah, she likes it. Got a thing for guys with diseases—she goes looking for them.”

Then he walked right past us.

The drunk burst out laughing.

“See? Even your husband doesn’t want you! Who the hell are you trying to fool?”

I don’t know how long I lay there before blood began to pour from my body—a massive, unstoppable flow.

The man let go, terrified, and ran off cursing.

I staggered to my feet and made my way to the emergency room. Alone.

I lost the baby.

I’d been planning to tell him about the pregnancy on our third anniversary.

Now there was nothing—just a blurry clot of blood in a surgical tray.

My colleague on duty looked at me, hesitant.

“Dr. Brooks, General Hayes pressured the hospital. Demanded strict punishment.”

“The board’s revoking your medical license and suing for training costs. I heard… you have to pay back over eighty thousand.”

I closed my eyes. Iron rose in my throat.

My colleague’s eyes reddened.

“I don’t understand. Back then, he almost took a disciplinary strike just to get you transferred to Fort Blackwell.”

“During that rescue mission, he ran in like a madman to carry you out.”

“He loved you so much. Why would he destroy your hand—your surgeon’s hand—and ruin your entire future over an adopted sister?”

Yeah. Why?