Five years after my divorce from my ex-wife, the special forces captain, I came across her again during the rehearsal for the Army Commendation Ceremony.

Just as the security staff were about to look over my ID, she stepped inside and their voices softened. “Captain Morales! You’re here too.”

She gave a small nod, her eyes landing on me.

“He came with me.”

I calmly declined and took my pass from my pocket.

“There’s no need. I brought my pass.”

She glanced at the pass in my hand and stayed silent for a few seconds. “Archie Ortiz, after all these years, you still blame me.”

I smiled without replying.

My thoughts had already been taken up by the person who was about to get the award; nothing else had room to enter.

——

When the rehearsal finished, I gathered the clothes I needed to collect on the way home, threw my bag over my shoulder and headed out.

With the early autumn wind kicking up dust, the sand was hitting my eyes by the time I got to the camp shuttle stop.

After I wiped the dust from my eyes, I noticed Charlotte Morales’s military-plated SUV waiting in front of me.

Noticing my red eyes, she frowned. “Get in. I’m giving you a ride.”

“There’s no need, I planned to take the shuttle.”

She stared me from top to bottom and when her eyes stopped on the bag hanging from my shoulder, her tone softened.

“How have you been all these years?”

“Pretty good.”

Charlotte clearly didn’t believe me.

“Get in, I’m giving you a ride.”

The shuttle bus behind us kept honking, yet she still didn’t move.

With everyone staring at us, I had no choice but to open the door.

“Odette Villa Compound,” I told the address.

Everything paused for a second and the woman’s voice became tight.

“Why are you still living there? That place has been on the demolition list for years and you stay there alone and…”

She stopped. But I already knew what she meant.

That was the place where my mother lost her life.

Ten years ago today, she refused to attend my wedding with Charlotte.

I jumped from the tenth floor.

Even though the back seat had some space, the heat was too much, so I lowered the window.

“You’ll catch a cold if you sit in the wind, close it. If you feel warm, I’ll turn it down.”

Smiling, I shook my head.

“I haven’t done that in a long time, do whatever you want.”

The car stayed quiet until her phone rang.

“Honey, is rehearsal done? Are you heading back?”

The voice coming through the speakers was familiar, but it sounded deeper than before.

“I’m on my way. I met Archie and gave him a ride.”

On the other end, it went quiet for a while.

“Archie came back? It’s been ages! Why didn’t you tell me? We should get everyone together.”

I had known Alexander Johnson for more than ten years and I had never heard him talk like this.

He used to speak little, always buried in tactical drawings.

When someone with connections took his spot in the competition, he only wiped his tears in secret.

It was I who smashed that person’s sand table in front of the whole unit, wrote a full report and sent it up the command chain to help him reclaim his place.

I later learned that people who received support really did look brighter.

“It was just running into him. He had something to do, so I dropped him off and came back.”

“Running into each other was luck. What was wrong with inviting an old teammate to eat?”

“Alexander, enough.”

The other end of the call went silent.

Charlotte always spoke softly when she wanted someone to listen, but once she settled on something, no one could sway her.

Alexander should have understood this more than I did.

The call ended suddenly, right as the car stopped at the family apartment building.

“Thanks.”

I stepped out of the car, but she still called after me.

“Archie, who was the dress you picked up today meant for?”

“My wife.”

Letting out a small snort and a weak smile, Charlotte seemed to think I was still acting stubborn toward her.

“The same outfit that you used to get these ready for me five years ago, too.”

“So?”

Calmly, I met her eyes and didn’t look away.

“Don’t act strong in front of me. All these years, I only hoped you could live well, not like this.”

Like what?

In the glass of the car window, my own reflection appeared.

A simple training outfit, heavy boots and a small bag packed with groceries.

I looked like a regular family member barely managing her daily costs.

However, compared to the past, when I had to keep myself perfect every day, this was not so bad.

Not annoyed, I smiled.

“I thought it was okay.”

For a moment, her expression shifted slightly. “Archie, you really were different from before.”

“Yes, many people told me that.”

After saying that, I went upstairs, never turning back.

I pushed open the door to my fifth-floor apartment. The room looked the same as it had the year before.

Next to the old TV sat a picture of my mother in her military uniform; the candle in front of it had long gone out.

I lit three sticks quickly, tied my apron and stepped into the kitchen.

Three dishes and one soup were placed on the table in a short time. Across from me sat a bowl of untouched rice.

Slowly, I ate.

“Mom, today I ran into Charlotte.”

“Don’t get angry yet. Your son couldn’t be pushed around by her. And I wasn’t as stupid as before.”

Only the loud wind outside the window answered me.

With no desire to eat, I put down my utensils and walked into my room, taking out an old photo album.

“Look how tough you were back then. Staring at pictures all the time really was dull.”

Before I even opened the album, a picture slid to the floor.

I bent down to pick it up. The picture showed Charlotte, Alexander and me.

Three young faces smiled brightly at the camera.

I had dragged the two of them to stand in the center, smiling the biggest, my right cheek still holding the marks from training.

That was the summer when I was thirteen.

Debt collectors came to the house of the Morales family to cause trouble.

The neighbors shut their doors and windows and even my parents didn’t dare get involved. But I moved forward.

The stick that should have struck Charlotte instead landed straight on my face.

My cheekbone was crushed and I spent the entire summer healing.

Heartbroken, my mother ordered me to stop seeing the Morales family.

Until Grace Morales, dragging her injured leg, knelt at our door and thanked us over and over.

She softened.

For the next ten years, our dinner table always had a pair of utensils and a bowl set aside for Charlotte and she always got a share of new clothes during holidays.

When she wasn’t busy, she helped Grace run the small store and when someone came making trouble, she could shout at them so coldly that they didn’t dare come back.

They called each other sisters.

But no one imagined that the younger sister who once tripped over her words would end up in the bed of her older sister’s husband.

When I returned home, everything inside had been smashed apart.

My mother stood in the center of the ruins, crying hard, with clear handprints on her face, while my father stood in front of Grace behind him.

“Let’s end the marriage. You can take everything, I only want Grace.”

Beside me stood Charlotte, who hurried to pull Grace away, but my mother slapped her twice.

I pushed her aside, watching her fall to the floor, staring at me in disbelief.

In that moment, tears were falling then, but I still said the most painful words.

“Mom, why did you slap Charlotte?”

All those mixed memories stay stuck in this tiny photo.

After I divorced Charlotte, I burned everything tied to her, but one photo still slipped through.

Just as I was about to toss the photo into the trash can, a knock sounded at the door.

Thinking it was Caroline, the neighbor who always brought apple pie around this time, I opened the door.

But I saw Alexander holding Charlotte’s hand.

He laughed loudly. “Archie, long time no see! After all these years, you haven’t changed at all.”

“Charlotte couldn’t turn me down, so her sudden visit didn’t bother you, right?”

I quietly looked at the two of them.

“I didn’t ask you in. What did you want?”

Faced with my short response, Alexander looked a bit uneasy as he glanced at Charlotte beside him.

“Alexander wanted to check on you. He brought a gift, no bad thoughts.”

Charlotte set the gift box at the doorway.

Alexander quickly explained, “This razor worked well for me and I thought you might need one too. Back then, we shared things like this a lot.”

I lowered my eyes to look at it; it seemed to be the same kind the guard used.

“That picture…”

Alexander’s eyes grew wet, his voice rough. “Archie, after all these years, you still haven’t moved on.”

I crushed the photo into a ball and tossed it into the trash can. “You’re overthinking it.”

He lifted his hand as if he wanted to set it on my shoulder, then stopped halfway.

“I get that you’re holding something in your heart. If you were still together, today would be your wedding anniversary.”

“What happened back then wasn’t my choice. If you really let it go, let us take you out for a meal. If you had any difficult moments in life, just say it; we’re old comrades.”

I was about to refuse him right away. Suddenly, the altar candle sparked.

I gave a small smile and changed my answer. “Alright.”

Alexander became much more chatty and his little gestures kept coming.

While talking about their trip to Spain last month, he picked up lip balm and touched it to her lips while waiting at a red light.

“Every winter, I had to remind you, why did you never learn?”

Charlotte grabbed his hand, somewhat upset. “Stop that.”

“Oh, honey, I forgot Archie was here. Archie, you wouldn’t mind, right? Charlotte and I were always like this…”

I interrupted Alexander.

“Of course not.”

“I’ve watched you two rolling around in bed back then; this is nothing.”

The car turned quiet. It finally stayed still.

As I looked out at the road, I thought that if my mother had still been alive, she would have been shocked by all the changes.

Back then, my father insisted on divorcing my mom for Grace, nearly driving her out of her mind.

And my hidden marriage to Charlotte completely crushed her.

At the start, I only hated my father and Grace.

Their betrayal was what turned my mother from a clear and neat woman soldier into a doubtful and resentful woman.

Time slowly wore down her strength.

Later, I hated myself.

After arranging my mother’s funeral, I went alone to the border unit during what should have been my honeymoon, staying there for a month.

At that time, I didn’t hate Charlotte.

She was like a pearl lost in dust, a female soldier who had suffered yet stayed strong.

Before leaving, I asked Alexander to look out for her.

In our newlywed place, he cared for her well, cooking four dishes and a soup that were neat and delicious.

I truly felt grateful to him.

That year, the three of us grew even closer.

Charlotte treated me kinder and kinder.

With the money from my first merit reward, she spent everything to get me the tactical watch I liked.

On my birthday, she lit fireworks across the whole city to celebrate.

Each time we came back from field training, she would cancel all her schedules to stay with me.

I never doubted anything. She cared about me deeply.

Until one day, by chance, I went to her office by myself.

From behind the half-open break room door, I heard close noises.

I pushed the door wide.

Two naked bodies hit my eyes like sharp knives.

I cried out without control.

Her reaction was fast. “Who let you in!”

“Get out!”

I grabbed whatever I could reach and threw it at her like someone who had lost their mind.

Charlotte’s forehead was bleeding, yet she still tried hard to cover the man beside her.