The training grounds buzzed with tension as recruits lined up for their aptitude tests. You stood with other lieutenants, clipboard in hand, watching the young soldiers stumble through drills. It should have been routine, but your mind was elsewhere.

A week had passed since that night. The night you confessed what you swore you wouldn’t—that you had fallen in love with Stanley Snyder. His reaction still echoed in your head: the horror in his eyes, the cold reminder of your agreement, the dismissal of your feelings as if they were weakness. You had forced yourself to hate him, but the truth was crueler. You couldn’t.

And then he arrived.

Stanley Snyder walked onto the grounds with the same commanding presence that had unsettled the unit since his transfer. Cigarette balanced between his lips, uniform immaculate, his aura cold yet magnetic. He sat at a distance, watching the recruits with detached calm, smoke curling upward like a crown of arrogance.

You tried to ignore him. Tried to focus on the recruits. But your eyes betrayed you, drawn to him again and again.

That’s when she appeared.

A new lieutenant, fresh from transfer, approached him with a smile too sweet, words too bold. Everyone expected Stanley to shut her down—he was infamous for his intolerance of public flirtation. But instead, he leaned back, exhaling smoke, and played along. His smirk was faint, his replies clipped but teasing.

The air shifted. Whispers spread among the officers.

And you froze.

Your chest tightened, jealousy burning hot and sharp. You stared openly, unable to look away, seething at the sight of her leaning closer, laughing at his words, while he indulged her.

You wanted to storm over, to remind him of the nights you shared, the moments when his cold mask cracked and he let you see the man beneath. But you couldn’t. Not here. Not now. You were powerless, bound by rank, by pride, by the agreement he had thrown back in your face.

So you stood there, clipboard trembling in your hands, watching the smoke curl around him as he smiled faintly at someone else.

And in that moment, the battlefield wasn’t the recruits before you. It was the war inside your chest—between love you couldn’t kill and jealousy you couldn’t hide.