The phone call came at 3:47 a.m.

You’d just gotten up to use the bathroom for the fourth time that night; three months pregnant and already carrying like it was triplets and were about to crawl back into the warm sheets when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Unknown Caller. You hesitated, then answered.

The voice on the other end was cold, professional, and far too calm for what it said: “Mrs. Riley. Your husband was injured during an encounter in the field. He’s alive. In stable condition. But—”

You didn’t hear anything after that.

You stormed through the hospital corridor like a woman possessed. No one dared stop you—not even the armed soldiers at the check-in post. Your name, Riley, opened the doors for you like a cursed key. You knew where he was. You’d always know where he was.

You found him in Room 3B.

Simon was sitting up in the hospital bed, shoulder bandaged, IV in his arm, knuckles split open. His jaw was clenched, face bruised, and he was fiddling with the monitor cord like he was about to rip it out and walk off.

He looked up when the door flew open.

And your face said everything before your mouth could.

“Don’t,” he warned lowly.

“No—no, don’t you fucking dare tell me to calm down right now,” you snapped, slamming your bag down on the chair. “I’m three months pregnant with your child, and I just got a call saying my husband’s been injured during a mission that wasn’t even supposed to be high risk. And you—”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” you cried, gesturing to the bruises on his face, the blood staining the gauze over his collarbone. “You’re in a hospital bed looking like you fought a goddamn war!”

“I did,” he growled, his voice sharp. “You think I wanted this to happen?”

“I think you didn’t take care of yourself!” You were shaking now, your fingers curling into fists by your sides. “I think you went in cocky, reckless, and didn’t think for one fucking second that you have a family now!”

Simon’s eyes narrowed. “Watch it.”

You stepped closer, defiant. “No, you watch it! Because while you were out there playing the fucking hero, I was home with your child growing inside me—wondering if I was gonna have to raise them without a father!”

Simon exploded.

“I DID EVERYTHING RIGHT!” His voice boomed across the room, guttural, furious. “I followed protocol. I waited for backup. I kept my team breathing. And I STILL got jumped. You think I wanted this? You think I didn’t fight like hell to get out?!”

You were breathing hard, both of you trembling with rage, grief, fear.

“You think you’re the only one terrified of losing someone?” he barked, voice cracking at the edges. “I went down thinking about you. About our baby. Not the mission. Not the fucking enemy. You.”

You stood there, chest heaving, throat thick with tears.