Nathan was frozen in disbelief.

It was Xavier who had taken her somewhere else, and that was how she got hurt. Yet she blamed everything on him.

His voice shook as he asked, “Yara, say that again. Who got you hurt?”

Yara pouted as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“It was you! It’s your fault! If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have fallen.

“And after I fell, you didn’t even take me to the clinic. Dr. Quinn was the one who carried me here.”

Hearing her twist the truth like that, Nathan felt numb.

Every breath caused a sharp sting in his chest.

The daughter he had raised for six years was accusing him without a second thought.

Even though he had decided to cut ties with Moon and Yara, she was still his own flesh and blood. How could he hold back when he saw her hurt?

Yet, she kept hurting him. Each blow cut deeper into his already wounded heart.

Moon gripped Nathan’s hand and pulled him out of the ward. She only let go when they reached a quiet corner.

Her head was pounding, and her voice was filled with rage.

“Nathan, is this how you look after Yara? You don’t even have a job! All you have to do is take care of her, yet you let her get hurt this badly! You didn’t even bring her to the clinic right away.

“I really have to wonder if you’re even her real father! Otherwise, how could you be so cruel?”

The veins on the back of Nathan’s hand stood out as he clenched his hands into fists. After everything he had lived through in both this life and the last, the final thread of attachment he had with Moon and Yara disappeared in that moment.

He only felt deeply disappointed.

Nathan gave a small, bitter smile and said softly, “Fine! If that’s how you see it, then I won’t be her father anymore. Let Dr. Quinn take that place.”

He was ready to let Xavier take the place of her husband as well.

Moon noticed that Nathan was calm and frowned.

But when she thought of the wound on Yara’s forehead, her emotions hardened again.

She was sure Nathan was only speaking out of anger after being yelled at. He loved Yara too much to truly give up on her.

Still, this time he had gone too far. She believed he needed to be taught a lesson.

“Why are you bringing Xavier into this? He was kind enough to take Yara to the clinic, and now, you are accusing him? That’s so ungrateful!”

Nathan chuckled, but his eyes shone with bitterness.

“Don’t you want him to be Yara’s father? Then, the two of you can be together publicly.”

Moon’s anger immediately flared. She slammed her fist into the wall beside his face, and her face darkened.

“I have never had any improper thoughts about Xavier! Stop making things up! There’s nothing between us!”

Nathan found that ridiculous.

If there was really nothing between them, why had Moon kept Xavier by her side and left him behind in the compound for twenty years?

If there was nothing between them, why had she thanked only Xavier when she received the Medal of Honor and mentioned no one else?

If there was nothing between them, why did Yara keep urging him to leave and make room for Xavier when he was on his deathbed?

Nathan no longer wanted to argue with her.

He would be leaving in six days. He could endure this for a while longer.

Nathan said nothing more. He turned and left the hospital without looking at Yara.

In the days that followed, Nathan packed his things for Javerton and focused on his physical training. He did not see Moon again, nor did he go to the hospital to check on Yara.

He had finally accepted the truth. They had no place for him in their hearts.

He would not humiliate himself by clinging to them.

…

The day Nathan was leaving was also the day Yara was discharged from the hospital.

For the first time in a long while, Moon called. Her voice was still a little cold, but the sharpness was gone from it.

“Yara’s coming home today. Make some at noon. Let’s have a family lunch to celebrate.”

Nathan paused. The words “family lunch” hit him straight in the heart.

In his past life, Moon had only returned twice during the twenty years she was away.

Each time, she stayed two or three hours before rushing off with the excuse of catching a train.

In those twenty years, the three of them never shared a proper family meal.

By the time he died, that wish had never come true.

This time, Nathan decided to make it happen.

He would finish what he could not in his past life.

He would close that chapter of his life and begin a new one full of possibilities.

After packing his things, Nathan cooked a huge meal and waited for Moon and Yara to come home.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily.

The time went from 11:30 a.m. to 1 p.m., but they still had not returned.

Nathan had a feeling that they would not come home.

Just as he expected, the phone rang.

Moon’s voice was unusually apologetic as she said, “Xavier has been taking care of Yara these past few days. I want to take him out to lunch to thank him. We won’t be coming home for lunch today.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. Then, a hesitant voice said, “Why don’t you come too?”

Yara’s voice drifted into Nathan’s ears.

“Dad hasn’t come to see me at all these past few days. Why should he come with us to eat? I don’t want to see him! This lunch is just for Dr. Quinn.”

Nathan did not feel sad. He chuckled instead.

“I won’t come. You two enjoy your meal.”

He paused, then added, “Moon, Yara, goodbye.”

With that, he hung up.

Outside, he could faintly hear the sound of a horn.

Nathan took his suitcase from the bedroom and placed the divorce certificate under an untouched plate of food.

He looked around the house one last time. This was the place where he had spent nearly forty years of his life, combining the past and the present.

He would never return here.

As the car drove toward Javerton, the buildings of Southwest Military Command slowly receded.

From that day onward, he would be stationed in Javerton while Moon and Yara would be in the South Sea.

They would be separated in the north and south and probably would never meet again.

Nathan would spend the rest of his life flying in the sky and guarding the country’s airspace.