"Your wife's medical application has been rejected. Again." Three years in a row. Her leukemia had progressed from early stage to terminal. Standing outside her husband's office door, she heard him say: "She's been traveling with the military her whole life. What serious illness could she possibly have?” The slots are limited. Give them to someone who needs them more." The person he deemed "more in need" was the female student he sponsored. For a mild concussion, he mobilized every medical resource he had. The seven years of savings she had put aside to save her own life — he spent them on a New Year's gift for that girl. She didn't push the door open. Didn't cry or make a scene. She just turned and walked into the freezing snow. Three days later, she collapsed. When he finally opened her medical file, he saw the diagnosis: Leukemia. Terminal. He fell to his knees, begging for forgiveness. She signed the divorce papers with a smile. ...... "We are so sorry, Dr. Elara. Your application for the Military Family Medical Coverage has not been approved. We apologize." This was the third rejection. Elara accepted her fate. "You denied Elara's Medical Coverage application again this year?" Colonel Hayes' voice was laced with confusion. After the rejection, she had made a simple decision. She would spend whatever time she had left by her husband Liam's side. That was all she wanted. She had not expected this. Three days on a train, exhausted and worn to the bone, and the first thing she heard standing outside his office door was that single sentence. She went completely still. The door was slightly open. Warm yellow light bled into the dark hallway. The voices inside were sharp and heated. "You know how rare this slot is. Once a year, one chance. The last two years I kept quiet because you gave it to your comrades. But this year you handed it to Chloe for a mild concussion?" Every word reached her ears. Elara's expression froze solid. The cold started at the soles of her feet and crept slowly upward through her whole body. It was like being dropped into ice water. Chloe. A college student Liam had been financially sponsoring. A girl from a broken home. Gambling father. Dying mother. Elara's jaw clamped shut. The first time she had applied for the Coverage, her leukemia was still early-stage. When she was denied, she assumed she simply was not sick enough to qualify. The second time, she decided she had been unlucky. Someone else had needed the slot more. This was the third time. And it came at the exact moment she had made peace with her fate. The exact moment she had stopped fighting and come home simply to be near the man she loved. That was when she heard the truth. "I am the Commander," Liam said. "She is the Commander's wife. If she cannot push through a minor difficulty, she does not deserve that title.” “Chloe grew up with nothing. She never had enough food or warm clothes. Her body is naturally weaker. ” “Elara spent years traveling with the military. What illness could she possibly have that would justify wasting a slot this valuable?" "Liam!" Colonel Hayes' voice shot up. "You rejected her application without reading a single word of it?" He had not even known what illness she had. The realization made Colonel Hayes visibly angrier. "I know Elara," Liam said. "No matter how hard things got, she never once complained. She is fine. The New Year is one week away. When she comes home I will take her to the hospital myself." "I genuinely cannot figure out what Chloe has done to get inside your head like this." "This has nothing to do with Chloe," Liam said. "I would have made the same call for anyone." Colonel Hayes' voice dropped, heavy with resignation. "And if Elara has something life-threatening, Liam? If blocking her application is the same as blocking her only chance to live?" The office fell completely silent. Outside in the corridor, Elara slowly lowered her outstretched hand. So it had never been fate working against her. "It had been him. The one person she had spent her entire life loving." She wanted to push that door open. She wanted to look him in the eye and demand an answer. "Everyone else's pain mattered to him. Did hers mean nothing?" She stood there for two full seconds. Then she turned and walked away without a sound. On her way out of the base, she stopped at the guard post and pressed the gift she had brought into the hands of the soldier on duty. "Do not tell the Commander I was here," she said softly. She turned and walked straight into the bitter wind. Liam. Since I was never worthy of your slot, I do not need it anymore.
If that was the case, she refused to accept her fate. A thought took hold of her. If no one was coming to save her, she would save herself. She sat down at the desk and wrote a letter. A new application. This time, in her own name. After finishing it, she gathered up the savings she had accumulated over the years. "In the seven years she had been married to Liam, she may not have held the same standing as him, but she was far from an ordinary Combat Medic. She was a Mortuary Restorer for Fallen Heroes." And it was precisely this role that might allow her to apply for a partial military medical subsidy. Combined with the money she had saved over the years, perhaps it could save her life. After doing all this, she felt a flicker of appetite for the first time in a long while. She walked into the kitchen and made herself a bowl of noodles. The clock on the wall showed it was nearly eleven at night. She made a quiet plan: first thing tomorrow morning, she would go to the post office and mail the application. Then, footsteps sounded outside the door. Liam pushed it open and stopped when he saw her. "You came back and didn't tell me?" At the sound of his voice, she looked up. Across the room, the radio on the low cabinet crackled with static. The snow outside was interfering with the signal. Liam glanced at it, walked over, and turned it off. "I've told you not to listen to the radio." "It's late. The base's subsidies haven't come through yet this year. Cut back." No word of welcome. No question about how she had been. She had spent three days on the train. Even a casual acquaintance would have asked if she was tired. Elara's chest ached with a dull, persistent pain, but her voice remained steady. "I haven't eaten all day. I was starving. And I only used a little." By the time she finished the sentence, bitter tears were already silently slipping from the corners of her eyes. The truth was, she could barely eat anymore. Her body no longer had the strength to digest food properly. Liam was a commander. His monthly salary alone exceeded a thousand dollars, plus additional supply subsidies. There was no shortage of food. But in his eyes, she was made of iron. She didn't get sick. She didn't need to eat. Yet for Chloe, a mild concussion, he had unhesitatingly mobilized medical resources. Bitterness spread through Elara's chest, growing heavier and heavier, until it was almost suffocating. Then, without warning, a sharp, piercing pain erupted in her chest. Moments later, the metallic taste of blood filled her nose. A single drop of blood fell onto her pale hand, blooming outward. She instinctively raised her hand to wipe it away. But the blood kept coming. Before she could stop it, it had splattered across the lower half of her face. Liam walked toward her, his voice impatient. "I was just reminding you. There's no need to lose your temper at me." "You—" He stopped mid-sentence, staring at the blood spreading across her face. His tone shifted. "What... what's wrong with you?" Her voice came out weak and choked. She couldn't hold it in any longer. Fighting through the pain and the grievance, she forced out the words, one by one: "That is my blood, Liam." The emotional turmoil made everything worse for a body that was already barely holding together. Her legs gave way beneath her. She swayed, steadying herself only by gripping the edge of the table. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked up at Liam. And she realized—she no longer recognized the man standing before her. Had these years together been nothing but her imagination? It was Liam who had pulled her out of that suffocating, backward family. It was he who had used every connection he had to persuade a military doctor to take her as an apprentice, so she could stay by his side. He had broken his own principles. Just this once. All for her. "You're bleeding so much... Are you—" As she thought this, the light in Elara's eyes dimmed, leaving behind only emptiness and numbness. Perhaps he would have done all this for anyone. Perhaps she had never been special. Perhaps she had simply been lucky. After all, he had broken his principles again. For Chloe. He had given up a spot without hesitation. For a girl with a minor injury. She wanted to ask him why. But before the words could leave her mouth, a searing, needle-like pain stabbed straight through her chest. Breathing became difficult. She forced herself to endure it. "It's nothing." Then, without another word, she turned and walked out of the room, step by unsteady step, until she reached the courtyard.
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