I’ve always been the type to get straight to the point. So when I found a photo of a strange girl sleeping in my sniper husband’s private album, I didn’t hesitate. I slid a set of divorce papers across the table to him. Either sign them, or cut ties with her for good. Aiden Pierce rubbed his temples, cutting me off, his voice laced with irritation. "She was just a hostage I rescued on my last mission. The kid's got PTSD, I can't just abandon her. Do you have to make a federal case out of this?" He leaned back, his tone hardening. "Besides, without me, where would you even go? You'd have nowhere to land." His words struck me dumb. I just stood there, frozen. He must have seen the look on my face because he immediately realized he'd crossed a line and started to backpedal. But before he could spin some half-hearted apology, I asked softly, "Does 'taking care of a hostage' include holding her while she sleeps?" ... My voice was barely a whisper, but it hit Aiden like a sniper's bullet. His breath hitched, his entire body going rigid. The casual arrogance vanished, replaced by a cold, guarded alertness. He took a half-step back. "How do you know that?" How did I know? Because his dear Miss Sierra couldn't wait to come and tell me herself. Before I could answer, Aiden’s posture softened completely. "Clara, Sierra's not like the others." "You don't need to go after her," he said, his voice almost pleading. I guessed he was afraid I’d do what I’d done before—hunt down any woman who got too close, just as soon as I caught a whiff of rumor. Afraid I’d leave Sierra a social pariah, just like all the others. But not this time. This time, I was done. I genuinely wanted a divorce. The way he was protecting her was proof enough that this girl was different. After all, he’d always let me deal with the other women from his past scandals however I saw fit. He called her "well-behaved"? If she were so innocent, why would she have sought me out? But I wasn't going to be the one to expose her. Aiden would find out the truth on his own soon enough. "If she's so perfect, wouldn't it be better for you to just divorce me and marry her?" I suggested, my voice even. Aiden shook his head, his answer swift and absolute. "Clara, you will always be my wife. I will never divorce you." A flare of anger ignited in my chest, but it was quickly extinguished by his cold, matter-of-fact tone. "So, you don't have to bother Sierra. She's no threat to your position." The calculated way he said it, the way he reduced our marriage to a "position," made my stomach turn. When had he started measuring love in terms of profit and loss? He’d forgotten. He’d forgotten that when we first married, he was just a junior officer living in a cramped little house on the base. "Aiden," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "If all I ever wanted was your power and status, why would I have married you back then?" He stared at me for a long moment, then let out a sharp, derisive laugh. "Clara, before you say something like that, take a look at what you're wearing." His eyes raked over me. "Without me, could you afford those five-figure outfits? That six-figure jewelry?" He closed the distance between us, pulling me into a rough embrace. His warm breath ghosted against my ear. "My paychecks go to your account, and my heart is with you." The faint, metallic scent of gunpowder still clung to him from the training grounds. "As for where my body is… don't be too demanding, alright?" I struggled against his grip, but he held me fast, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched my futile efforts. Finally, he let me go with a low chuckle. He leaned in close, his dark eyes boring into mine. "People who get too greedy, Clara… they end up with nothing." Just then, his phone buzzed. Sierra. The call shattered the tense standoff and, in a way, saved me from further humiliation. He was right. On my own, I could never afford this life. Without him, I really had nowhere to go. Ever since my mother died and my father remarried, I hadn't had a home to call my own. I twisted the diamond ring off my finger. He’d had it custom-made after his last commendation ceremony. I remembered the price tag clearly: seventy thousand dollars. The necklace I was wearing was part of the set, another two hundred twenty thousand. The dress I had on was nearly six thousand. Money I could never earn in a lifetime. But so what? I didn't need jewelry. I could wear simple clothes. Instead of making me reconsider, Aiden's words only strengthened my resolve. Over the next few days, I made the rounds of every law firm in the area. Each one turned me down. When I tried to file for a contested divorce directly, the clerks at the courthouse were tight-lipped and unhelpful. I dragged my exhausted body back to our house on the base one evening to find Aiden sitting in the living room, calmly reading the newspaper. "Find a lawyer willing to take your case, Clara?" he asked without looking up. His single question confirmed it. He was the one pulling the strings, making sure my efforts were fruitless. "I told you," he said, folding the paper. "This divorce isn't happening." He held out a handkerchief. "Wipe your face." I slapped it out of his hand. He just chuckled, unfazed. "Don't look at me like that. You've been cooped up in this house for too long. You've forgotten that the world isn't black and white." I said nothing, just turned away with a cold smirk. He wasn't wrong. The past few days had certainly been an education. "Sierra had a moment of weakness, that's why she bothered you," he said, his tone turning conciliatory. "I promise she will never appear before you again." "And you?" I challenged, meeting his eyes. "Can you promise to cut ties with her completely?" He sighed. "Clara, don't be so naive. If it's not Sierra, it'll be someone else…" I let my gaze drop, tuning him out. My eyes fell on the plush, custom-ordered rug, but my mind was already elsewhere, mentally packing a suitcase for a volunteer trip. That morning, I'd seen a recruitment notice for the Spring Blossom Foundation's "Classroom Project." On my way to another failed lawyer's appointment, I’d submitted my application. I'd just received the email—I was accepted. If I couldn't get a divorce here, maybe leaving was the next best thing. When the volunteer term was over, I could find a lawyer in another state. Seeing that I was no longer arguing, Aiden stopped his lecture. After a moment of silence, he tried again. "I can't cut her off completely, but I promise she will stay out of the public eye. She will never threaten your position," he said. "All my money is yours. Why get worked up over something as meaningless as feelings?" He reached for me, but I stepped aside. A frustrated hiss escaped his lips. "What more do you want? Look at the guys in my unit. Which one of them isn't living like this?" I knew. Of course, I knew. The men he worked with were far worse. One of his buddies who got promoted at the same time now had a string of women on the side. But just because everyone else did it, did that mean we had to? Seeing the irritation etched on his face, I swallowed the words. "I'm tired," I said. "I'm going to bed." The constant running around and hitting brick walls had left me emotionally and physically drained. I was asleep within fifteen minutes. When I woke again, the setting sun was bleeding across the horizon. My phone was lit up on the nightstand—a friend request from the Spring Blossom Foundation. I accepted, and a message came through almost immediately. [Ms. Evans, we'll be meeting at the airport in one week to fly out as a group.] After confirming, they sent over a packet of documents and a list of things to prepare. It had been a long time since I'd dealt with this kind of paperwork, and it was a struggle, but for the first time in months, a feeling of lightness settled in my chest. It wasn't until I saw Aiden at the base hospital a few days later that I understood why he'd been so scarce. He was with Sierra. They were walking into the OB/GYN clinic together. I glanced at my own appointment number on the screen. It would be a while. I found a seat a discreet distance away and watched. After some time, Sierra emerged from the exam room, her face glowing with a joy she couldn't hide. A cold premonition washed over me. Sierra was pregnant. But Aiden… Aiden had a low sperm count. We'd been married for years without a child. If she was really pregnant, would Aiden finally agree to the divorce for the sake of his child? I stood up and walked toward them, no longer trying to hide. The thought of a potential divorce brought an involuntary smile to my face. But that smile froze on my lips. "Get rid of it." I was only a few feet away when I heard Aiden's voice, as cold and sharp as ice. Sierra clearly hadn't expected it. The joy drained from her face, leaving it a ghostly white. She swayed on her feet. She looked at him with pleading eyes, but he remained unmoved, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features at her silent disobedience. "I will not acknowledge this child. And you will not have it," he stated flatly. "I, Aiden Pierce, will not have an illegitimate child." But Sierra seemed to misinterpret his meaning entirely. Her eyes landed on me. Without a second thought, she rushed over and dropped to her knees in front of me. "Mrs. Pierce, I know I'm shameless, I know I'm filth," she cried, her hands clutching at my legs. "But please, I'm begging you, let me have this baby." I couldn't shake her off. I stood stiffly, afraid to move in case I fell, my eyes shooting daggers at Aiden. This is what you call not bothering me? "Mrs. Pierce, please, it's a life," she sobbed. "Please, I'm begging you." A crowd was starting to form, their whispers filling the sterile hallway as they pieced together the drama unfolding before them. With every pointing finger and hushed comment, the blood drained from Aiden's face, his expression growing darker by the second. And Sierra? Her shamelessness was breathtaking. Of the three of us, I was the only one drowning in humiliation. "Sierra." Aiden's voice was a blade of ice from behind me. The kneeling woman flinched. She turned her tear-streaked face to him, a desperate hope for pity in her eyes. Impossible, I thought. This was Aiden Pierce, the man who had clawed his way up from a grunt to a commander in the Special Forces. His heart was harder than anyone's. But I was wrong. Aiden looked at Sierra, and for a fleeting moment, I saw something shift in his eyes. He let out an almost inaudible sigh before stepping forward and helping her to her feet. "Stop crying," he said, his voice softer now. "We'll talk about this back home." He gently wiped her tears, his arm circling her shoulders to support her. Was this really Aiden? I couldn't believe what I was seeing. By the time I snapped out of my stupor, they were gone. I was left standing alone in the hospital corridor like a fool, the murmurs of strangers ringing in my ears. I tilted my head back, forcing the tears back. What a waste. The whole spectacle had made me miss my appointment. I'd have to get back in line. It was nearly dark by the time I finished my own medical check-up and got home. I stepped inside but didn't turn on the lights, standing in the entryway and letting my eyes adjust to the gloom. Every corner of this house was decorated to my taste, but now, it all just made me feel sick. Every surface was tainted with the memory of him. "You're back?" Aiden's voice came from the bedroom. He emerged a moment later, a glass of water in his hand. He offered it to me, a gesture that felt sickeningly familiar—the prelude to him asking for something. "Sierra won't terminate the pregnancy," he began, placing the glass on the table in front of me. He watched me, testing the waters. "I was thinking… we could let her have the baby, and you could raise it as our own." I turned to look at him, and he flinched, his gaze darting away. As if realizing his own cowardice, he forced himself to meet my eyes again, his expression hardening into one of righteous justification. "The Fletchers did the same thing, didn't they? The son who runs their company now was the one they brought home from the outside." My heart sank into a black abyss. The Fletchers. They were the laughingstock of our entire circle. The illegitimate son was brought home, and he ended up driving the legitimate heir out of the family. Now, the wife and the mistress live under the same roof. I remembered the first time Aiden had told me about them, the disdain thick in his voice. And now, he had become the very thing he once despised. Perhaps my stare was too intense because he suddenly changed the subject. "What were you at the hospital for today? Are you feeling sick? Your physical last month came back completely normal." … I lowered my eyes, ignoring his hollow concern. "Fine," I said softly. The fake pleasantries stopped instantly. His eyes widened in disbelief. "Aiden, if Sierra wants to have that baby, let her." His face broke into a wide, relieved grin. He'd completely forgotten to ask about my health. He'd completely forgotten that I had never said I would raise the child. He was the one who couldn't have children, not me. With my "permission," Aiden's visits to Sierra's apartment became more frequent and less discreet. Soon, the day to leave for the volunteer trip arrived. Aiden came home unexpectedly early that morning. When I got out of bed, he was already sitting in the living room, looking like he'd been there for hours. As I made breakfast in the kitchen, I heard him speak from behind me. "Clara." "I just… have a bad feeling about something." My hand, holding the knife, paused for a fraction of a second. I was silently grateful I’d moved my packed suitcase into the bedroom the night before. I hadn't intentionally hidden the trip from him, but I didn't want him to know either, fearing he'd create some new obstacle. I continued preparing the food, ignoring the unease in his voice. His soliloquy eventually died in the face of my silence. After breakfast, just as he was about to leave for the base, I called out to him. "Aiden, come back here after work today." He paused with his hand on the doorknob, turning back in surprise. I forced a small, unfamiliar smile. "There's something I need to give you." He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of pleasure in his eyes at my sudden initiative. But all I wanted was for him to be here to see the divorce papers I’d be leaving for him. By the time our plane landed at the Westbrook regional airport, my phone was long dead. The teaching site was in the most remote mountain area of the county. Most of the young adults had left for work in the cities, leaving only the elderly and children behind. After an afternoon of being jostled around on winding roads, the bus finally rumbled onto a smoother path. Chloe, the young woman who had first contacted me and was now our team’s logistics coordinator, was sitting next to me. "Clara, are you okay?" I managed a weak smile and a small shake of my head. I hadn't realized how bad my motion sickness was. "We're almost there. Just hang on." As the road smoothed out, my nausea began to subside. I peeked through the curtain at the scenery outside, and a strange sense of familiarity washed over me. When we finally arrived at our destination, I knew why. We were only a few miles from Aiden’s hometown. The very next town over. I couldn't believe the coincidence. Still, I wasn't worried about running into anyone I knew. I had only stayed here for a month when we first got married. Aiden's grandfather had insisted we hold the wedding on home turf. Our base housing in Riverton hadn't been assigned yet, so we’d stayed in his old family home. "Clara, would you mind sharing a dorm room with me?" Chloe asked after she finished assigning the rooms. I nodded. "Of course." After unpacking, with the unique chorus of country insects as a lullaby, I fell into the deepest sleep I’d had in months. The next day, I was up at dawn. Chloe was still asleep, so I tiptoed out to wash up. After a simple breakfast, I walked with the other teachers to the school. The four large characters above the school building made me stop in my tracks: The Pierce-Evans Project. It was from a lifetime ago. Back when Aiden had just been promoted to commander, he received his first significant bonus. His comrades used theirs to buy things for their families. Aiden used his to start this project. He said he wanted every child from his hometown to have the chance to get an education. But somewhere along the way, between our endless fights and growing distance, the project had been forgotten. Maybe that's why I felt an instant connection to this place. I was filled with energy all day. When school let out, the gate was crowded with parents picking up their children. I stood to the side, observing. The area was poor, but the parents clearly valued education. Almost every child in the lower grades had someone waiting for them. The kids were bright and cheerful, waving goodbye enthusiastically even to us, the new teachers. As the crowd thinned, I prepared to head back. Suddenly, a booming voice called out from behind me. "You're old man Pierce's granddaughter-in-law, aren't you?" "Old man Pierce's granddaughter-in-law." I hadn't heard that title in a decade. I never thought I’d actually run into someone from his past here. I turned to see an elderly woman with white hair and neat clothes, likely one of Aiden’s grandfather’s old friends. I was about to deny it—who would know the difference out here?—but before I could speak, she let out a triumphant cry. "It is you! It really is old Pierce's granddaughter-in-law!" Her shout drew the attention of everyone nearby. "City life must be good for you. It's been over ten years, and you're still as young and beautiful as ever," she said, bustling over and grabbing my hand. "We have you and your husband to thank for this wonderful school." …
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