My labor was a nightmare. The doctors declared me critical six times. My husband, Marcus, rushed back from his military base overnight. He was covered in blood, his eyes blazing with a hatred so deep it scorched me. “To get me here to you, my best friend crashed his car into a rockslide. He’s dead, Morgan. He left behind a wife and a child.” His voice was a razor’s edge. “How am I supposed to repay that blood debt?!” His best friend’s widow, Sarah, lost her husband in a single night. And I lost mine. Marcus never came home again. I was left alone to work dead-end jobs, to raise our son, to endure the vicious whispers of our neighbors. At school, my son was taunted, called a bastard with no father. I couldn’t stand it. I went to the other family’s house to set things right. They beat me until my head was split open, leaving me to lie alone on a cold operating table. With trembling hands, I dialed my husband’s direct line. It was his aide who answered. “The Commander is watching Sarah Evans’s performance.” “He is not to be disturbed.” My heart turned to ash. I asked for a divorce. Marcus promised, he swore, that he would return to us for good in one month. “I’ll take our boy for a ride in the Jeep,” he said. “We’ll drive through town and show everyone what a big-shot father he has.” My son and I counted the days, crossing them off the calendar one by one. The day finally came. We saw the Jeep, surrounded by a throng of people. And in it, Sarah was laughing, a child in her arms. I held my sobbing son tight. “It’s okay, sweetie,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “We don’t need a daddy.” “Your grandpa’s army-green helicopter is way cooler than a Jeep, anyway.” … Oakhaven is a tiny town. A new bicycle is enough to get people talking for a week. A military Jeep was a spectacle. The narrow lane was completely blocked by gawkers. Marcus got out of the vehicle with a sigh. A little boy clung to his leg, whining. “It’s all muddy. It’s gross. I don’t want to get my new shoes dirty. Daddy, carry me.” My son, Leo, stomped his foot in fury. He tore his hand from mine and charged forward, shoving the other boy. “Get away from him! He’s not your dad!” The boy stumbled backward, caught by surprise. Sarah scooped him up, her eyes shooting daggers at Leo. “Where did this feral child come from? No manners at all.” Marcus raised his hand, ready to strike Leo for her son’s sake. Leo froze, his little fists clenched. In the stories I told him, this was the day his father would come home. He’d bring candy and toys and take him for a ride in a big car. He’d show all the bullies. He wasn’t a bastard. He had the best, strongest father in the whole world. But the day he had wished for, prayed for, had arrived. And his father was about to hit him in public, all to protect another child. Leo’s voice was a choked sob. “You lied, Mommy. He’s not my dad.” Marcus’s hand trembled in mid-air. His gaze fell on the small, dark birthmark on Leo’s forehead. Shock, guilt, and a flicker of something almost tender crossed his face. “That birthmark looks like a little star. Let’s call our son Leo, after the constellation.” He hadn’t been home since. Today was the first time in eight years he had seen his son in the flesh. But that flicker of warmth… It was extinguished by Sarah’s plaintive cry. “Marcus, are you just going to stand there and let him bully Cody?” The sound of the slap echoed through the crowd. I was frozen solid for a second before I ran to Leo, shielding him as he bit his lip to keep from crying out. I summoned every ounce of my strength and slapped Marcus back across the face. “You’ve got some nerve! Sarah says one word and you hit my son!” The slap, the shout. The onlookers swarmed closer, their eyes filled with scorn. They had been wondering how to get on the good side of the new Commander. This was their chance. They practically pointed their fingers in my face. “Morgan, are you crazy? Why would you hit the Commander?” “He’s Sarah’s husband! He’s supposed to defend his own kid, not yours!” “Your son started it! You’re just an unreasonable bitch.” “Worse than a bitch. She’s trash.” “Has anyone ever even seen her husband? God knows who she had that little bastard with.” The curses were like needles stabbing into my brain. Marcus looked uneasy but still positioned himself in front of Sarah and her son, protectively. He didn't say a single word in my defense. I clenched my jaw, wrapping my arms around Leo, who was shaking with sobs. Sarah seemed to realize something, and a smug look spread across her face. She put on a show of magnanimity. “So you’re the one…” she started, then trailed off with a sigh. “Well, it’s not easy for a single mother. I’ll let it go.” But the crowd wouldn’t. “No way! Assaulting a Commander is a serious crime! She should be locked up for a couple of weeks.” “And that little bastard, Leo, yelling at the Commander like that.” “If word gets out, people might think the Commander has loose morals.” I could take their insults. But I would not let them shame my son. Swallowing the bitter acid rising in my throat, I stared straight at Marcus. “You tell them. Whose husband are you?” My defiant, tear-filled gaze seemed to pierce him. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He looked like he was about to speak. But his aide cut in with a sneer. “This is ridiculous.” “Everyone at Fort Sheridan knows Sarah is the woman Commander Thorne cherishes most.” “To make her happy, the Commander—a grown man—learned to dance, just to perform a duet with her on stage.” “In the four years I’ve served under him, I’ve never seen him late for morning drills. But since Sarah came along, he’s been late 28 times in a month. He can’t stand to be away from her.” Every word was a hammer blow to my heart. Over two thousand days and nights. I worked three jobs to raise our child, fending off unwanted advances in the dark. When I couldn’t bear it anymore and cried to him on the phone, his voice was always ice-cold. “Sarah’s husband died in that crash because he was rushing to get me to you.” “Taking care of her is my way of repaying your blood debt. You should be grateful, not an ungrateful wretch.” For all these years, I had clung to those words. Don’t expect, don’t bother, don’t complain. Even today, I had been planning to buy extra groceries to welcome Sarah and her son. To treat her like a sister. I never imagined that while Marcus bound me with chains of guilt, he was indulging in a passionate affair with his dead friend’s wife. Then what was all my suffering for? The crowd erupted. They surged forward. “How dare you tell that bastard Leo to call the Commander ‘daddy’!” “Trying to drag a good man through the mud!” “Plenty of men in this town have tried to help Morgan out over the years, but she always said she was married and chased them off!” “Turns out she just looks down on us country folk. Well, get the hell out then!” Someone yanked my hair back, hard. Leo tried desperately to push them away but was kicked to the ground. A cruel older boy stomped on his face. “Enough!” Marcus roared. Sarah’s face paled, and she clutched his sleeve. Marcus sighed, gently pushed her away, and came to help me and Leo up. “Everyone,” he announced, his voice strained. “Morgan is actually… my sister-in-law.” “After my older brother passed, the elders wanted me to take responsibility for both families. As an educated military man, of course, I couldn’t accept such an arrangement.” “But my sister-in-law… she seems to want me very much… which led to this misunderstanding.” A misunderstanding. A joke. It felt like he’d plunged a knife right back into the raw, gaping wound in my chest. He lowered his voice, trying to placate me. “Morgan, don’t make things difficult for Sarah.” “When you were in labor, if her husband hadn’t been rushing to get me to you, he wouldn’t have been driving so fast.” “You owe her this.” There it was again. That sentence. The one that kept me from blaming him, from blaming her. The one that forced me to swallow years of loneliness and hardship. But we made that child together. Why was the debt all mine to pay? My heart was cold. I didn’t want to fight anymore. If Sarah wanted him that badly, she could have him. We were even. I shook his hand off and spoke, my voice flat. “That’s right. I’m the Commander’s sister-in-law.” “Leo, call him ‘uncle.’” “No.” “Call him.” “Un… cle.” Marcus’s face stiffened. He didn’t answer, his eyes swirling with a complicated emotion. This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? So why was he hesitating? He knelt, pulling a bag of milk candies from his pocket to give to Leo. I pushed his hand away and led Leo out of the crowd. I didn’t look back once. I had just started packing our things when the yard gate was pushed open. Marcus walked in, leading Sarah and her son by the hand. My face was a mask of ice. “What are you doing here?” He pushed past me with his luggage. “Alright, stop sulking. You’ve been waiting all these years for me to come back, haven’t you? I could have been transferred to the capital, but I know you don’t like the dry northern air, so I came back to Oakhaven. From now on, our family of five will live a good life.” For a second, I thought I’d misheard him. “A family of five? Marcus, what in God’s name do you think I am?” “My wife, of course,” he said. He paused, then turned back with a smile. “But publicly, you’re still my sister-in-law. Don’t let it slip, alright? It would be awkward for Sarah.” He walked into the master bedroom and started throwing my and Leo’s bedding, clothes, and books out into the hall. He took out a brand-new set of sheets and carefully made the bed. Those strong hands… they had once pulled me from a raging flood. They had tended to me tirelessly in the hospital. I had fallen in love with him at first sight. I had defied my father, cut off all ties, just to marry him. Now, he was using those same hands to make a bed for another woman. It was time for things to go back to the way they were supposed to be. I knelt and whispered to a sobbing Leo. “I called Grandpa. He’s coming to get us soon.” “Grandpa is amazing. He even has a helicopter. You’ve always wanted to fly like the birds, haven’t you?” Leo’s swollen eyes lit up, and he nodded vigorously. “Mommy, I’m hungry.” I nuzzled his cheek and went into the kitchen. Sarah leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on her face. “You’ve got some patience, I’ll give you that,” she said. “I’ve moved into your house, and you still have the heart to cook for Marcus? What, are you planning on taking care of me when I have his second child?” I didn’t even look at her. Frustrated, she glared at me, then seemed to come to a decision. She lowered her voice. “You know, my husband Jake’s death had nothing to do with you. When you were in labor, Marcus insisted Jake take a detour to the bakery on the west side of town before going to the hospital. Everyone thought he was getting something for you. But really, it was because I’d whined about wanting some chestnut cakes. Who knew there’d be an accident on that little road?” She giggled, covering her mouth. “Marcus and I were first loves. We were separated when we were sent to the countryside for re-education. Now, after all this time, we’ve found our way back to each other. It’s destiny.” It felt like my heart had been crushed in a fist. I couldn’t breathe. For eight years, I had believed his lie without a single doubt. I had humbled myself time and time again, all to atone for a sin that wasn’t mine. I thought if I was just small enough, quiet enough, Marcus might think of me and Leo while he was “repaying his debt” to Sarah. I was so wrong. He was just happily, guiltlessly building his life with her on the wreckage of mine. A triumphant smile played on Sarah’s lips. “Today, I’m going to make you give up for good and get out of this family.” She took a knife and sliced a deep gash into her own arm, then let out a piercing scream. “Morgan, if you’re angry that I took Marcus, just say so! I’ll leave!” “You don’t have to do this…” Marcus burst into the kitchen. He fumbled for gauze to wrap her wound and then roared at me. “Wasn’t it enough that you got her husband killed? Now you’re trying to kill her too? You’re nothing but an ungrateful, backstabbing wretch!” The sheer absurdity of it made me want to laugh. “I’m the wretch?” I sneered. “And you, sleeping with your dead best friend’s wife… that makes you a man of honor?” The truth hit its mark. His face went white. “You… you have the nerve to ask me that?” he stammered. “How did a single woman raise a son all these years? I never asked you how many men you slept with.” Ugh. Disgusting. I pressed a hand to my stomach, fighting back a wave of nausea. Marcus grabbed my wrist. “And you have the audacity to play the victim?” he snarled. “It’s the first day and you’re already acting this jealous. How are we supposed to live together for the next few decades?” “Is this how you hurt Sarah?” He picked up the knife and moved to cut my hand. “Don’t you hurt my mommy!” Leo suddenly darted in front of me, his little arm outstretched. Startled, Marcus lost his grip. The knife fell. “Aaargh—!” Leo crumpled to the ground, his arm hanging limply, the bone shattered, held on only by skin and sinew. Blood pooled on the floor. My fingertips went numb. I whirled on Marcus, screaming. “Get the car! Take him to the hospital!” His face tightened, and he grabbed the car keys, ready to run. But Sarah started sobbing, clutching her arm. “My arm hurts so much, Marcus. What if I can never dance again?” He looked into her tear-filled eyes, and the guilt that had just appeared on his face vanished. He clenched his fists and turned on me, his voice cold. “You need to learn your lesson today. Apologize to Sarah right now, or I’m not taking Leo to the hospital.” “Are you insane? Marcus, that’s your son! He could die if you wait!” He blocked the doorway, his dark eyes empty and cold. “He’s your son, too. I want you to remember this. Remember the fear and pain of losing someone you love. Maybe then you’ll understand what Sarah has been through, and you’ll settle down and help me take care of her for the rest of our lives.” Sarah shot me a triumphant, mocking look. She mouthed a single, silent word. Loser. I stood frozen, my heart torn in two. One half seethed with the humiliation of eight years spent atoning for a lie. The other half was consumed with terror for my son. He was covered in blood, his breathing growing faint. I bit down on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. My knees buckled. I knelt. I bowed my head to Sarah, who looked down on me from her throne of deceit. I slapped my own face, hard. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed. “It was my fault. I’ll never hurt you again. Please, just let Marcus take Leo to the hospital…”
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