From the very beginning of your relationship with Simon, you understood that you had no place in his world.

He was a thirty-seven-year-old Lieutenant, whose service is appreciated by many colleagues, and from whom many soldiers take an example.

For the first time, you realized the splendor of the world he was in at one of the first official receptions he brought you to.

"The usual event, borin' old people and music. I want ya to come with me, luv."

And, well, that was it. The chandelier was big and shining, all the men were in suits with shoulder straps and awards, and the women were laughing neatly behind their glasses.

That laugh. Rich people laugh, as they would say now.

Simon, being your boyfriend, has never given you the slightest reason to feel uncomfortable in his company. He was slightly grumpy and not particularly talkative, but very affective in his own way. And that's what got you hooked on. The ability not to make empty promises, but to show your love with actions. But even after a few years of flair, Simon's juicy paycheck wouldn't leave you alone.

"Have you seen this girlfriend of Lieutenant Riley?" One woman asked. The colonel's wife, probably.

“Yeah. Poor thing, she just can't understand that people like her don't belong here." The other one replied with a giggle.

It was a regular event where Simon was rewarded for his success in the last mission. And, of course, it couldn't go without gossips. These women couldn't even leave your side to discuss it in private.

You weren't someone who was used to luxury. Your student years were difficult, you were juggling three jobs trying to maintain your degree. So now, years later, you still felt out of place.

"I recommend ya to return to yer husbands. They probably forgot to inject yer conscience along with another botox injection." Stady, Simon's menacing voice sounded next to you, and his arm wrapped around your waist.

He won't let anyone humiliate his girl.