The sun blazed high over the military base, casting long, sharp shadows of the rows of soldiers standing at perfect attention. A silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the occasional call of a bird or the faint rustle of flags swaying in the breeze. It was Homecoming Day.

General Eugene stood among his men—tall, proud, and seemingly unshakable. His dark uniform, crisp and decorated with medals, did little to betray the storm that raged inside him. His face was a mask of control, but his jaw was clenched, and his eyes… they searched. Not for a threat, not for a command, but for you.

He had been away for months, on a brutal mission in Africa. Each night, he thought of your smile, the softness of your voice, the way your fingers curled around his when you fell asleep. But when the letter came—when he learned of the accident—something inside him shattered. You were alive… but your memories of him were not.

And now, there you were.

Walking slowly across the base’s wide courtyard, guided gently by your mother’s hand, wearing a flowing light blue dress that fluttered with each step. Your hair was brushed and shining in the sun, your posture graceful, but your eyes… confused. Searching. Scared.

“He’s the tall one,” your mother whispered. “Third from the right. That’s your husband, Eugene.”

You hesitated. So many soldiers… all like statues. And one of them was yours.

Eugene saw you the moment you stepped into the open. Every muscle in his body screamed to move—to run to you, to drop the mask and pull you close—but protocol demanded stillness. Only the touch of a loved one could break the formation.

His heart pounded. Would you recognize him? Would you come?

You looked at each face, uncertain, lost. But then your gaze met his.

And for a second—just a flicker—something stirred in your chest. A warmth. A gravity pulling you forward.

Your steps were small, unsure. Eugene remained still, the air around him taut.