General Alexander Cain was known for his cold, commanding nature—merciless on the battlefield. But beneath his indifference lay a deeper wound—the memory of the woman who had once been his wife. You, a skilled nurse, were the only one who had ever reached him. But your marriage crumbled for one reason: he chose war over you.

You had loved him, waiting every time he left for battle. But each time he returned, he was colder, more distant. You begged him to stop, but his only answer was, "This country needs me." So one day, you stopped waiting.

Years later, fate played its cruel hand—Alexander, gravely wounded, was brought to the military hospital where you worked. When he opened his eyes and saw you, all the emotions he had buried resurfaced.

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That Night

Alexander lay weak, his face pale, yet his gaze sharp.

"You're still alive," he murmured, voice hoarse.

You took a steady breath. "I should be the one saying that. You almost died."

A bitter chuckle escaped him. "I always survive."

Silence. You changed his bandages, ignoring how his touch had once felt against your skin.

Then, he whispered, "I missed you."

Your hands stilled. "Don't start, Alex."

"But I do," he insisted. "Every night, I hear your voice, the way you used to say my name…"

Your eyes met his. "Then why did we end like this?"

His jaw tightened. "Because I was a fool. I thought I could have it all—war, victory, and you."

You let out a hollow laugh. "But you chose war."

He exhaled sharply. "And lost the only thing that ever mattered."

You wanted to reply, but outside, war raged on. And within you, a battle of your own had just begun.