The room went quiet. Everyone stared, stunned.

Rodrick Wheeler's smile vanished. His hand clenched his glass, knuckles turning white.

He started to speak, but Chelsea Galloway—perched beside him—cut in first, blinking those wide, innocent eyes. "Ms. Miller, you kept this quiet! Would you ever have told us if we hadn't asked?"

I met her gaze evenly. "Some things stay hidden. But I'm still the only wife."

Last time, I had thought that Chelsea was clueless about Rodrick and me, and she was innocent.

Only on that field hospital bed, as she gloated about his favoritism, did I realize she'd known everything all along.

Chelsea's smile tightened. The others quickly jumped in, trying to lighten the mood. "Ms. Miller, you're getting married? No wonder you always skip our mixers! What unit's he in?"

"Gotta be someone impressive to land our top frontline correspondent!"

I offered a light smile. "I'll introduce you all someday."

A teasing voice piped up. "You're not just making this up, are you, Ms. Miller? Pushing thirty and all people talk. Right, Major General Wheeler?"

Chelsea tilted her head playfully toward Rodrick.

I gripped my camera strap. Then I heard Rodrick's low, noncommittal grunt.

Chelsea shot me a smug look.

A wave of bitter amusement washed over me.

With a second chance, what was I still hoping for?

Just then, a calm, clear voice rang out from the doorway. "Is Aubrey Miller here? I'm here to pick her up."

Heads turned. A tall, lean man stood at the entrance, his gaze steady behind those gold-rimmed glasses.

He wore his white lab coat, clearly straight from the research facility.

Our eyes met, and surprise flickered through me, too.

He offered a faint smile. "Aubrey, let's head home."

Whispers erupted instantly.

"Isn't that the whiz kid from R&D? The lead engineer?"

"So he's Ms. Miller's fiancé? Talk about a power couple."

I stood and nodded to the group. "Excuse me, I need to go."

From the moment I rose, I felt Rodrick's stare burning into my back, but I didn't look.

Just steps from the door, Rodrick's voice sliced through the air. "Aubrey!"

I paused and turned. "Something else, Major General Wheeler?"

His face was thunderous, anger swirling in his eyes.

Chelsea gave me a sweet smile. "We're having my medal ceremony later. Major General Wheeler is taking me out. Join us, Ms. Miller?"

I glanced at the silent man and shook my head. "No. Congratulations. I have plans."

I walked away without looking back.

I felt his eyes on me the entire way out, his intense gaze only breaking when I shut the Jeep's door.

Belt fastened, I turned to the driver. "Thanks, Mr. Turner."

Ceredig Turner started the engine, eyes on the road. "No problem. Just left the lab and was passing by."

I smiled, not pushing it. He didn't elaborate, just asked, "Where to?"

I gave my address.

The drive was short.

Before I got out, he pulled out his phone. "Let's swap numbers."

I hesitated. He chuckled. "Might need a favor from you someday."

I nodded, scanned his code, and turned toward the base housing.

This was the home we got when Rodrick and I married. It was small, but packed with seven years of my hopes and happiness.

Back when we had downtime, we'd watch the news here and debate policy.

Now, Rodrick hardly ever came back.

I'd barely stepped inside when my phone blew up. It was my editor, Sarah Lopez.

"Aubrey! Check the base forum! Now!"

I clicked the link. The headline glared back.

"Major General Rodrick Wheeler and Chelsea Galloway Confirm Their Relationship: Base's Power Couple Is Official!"

Two photos were underneath. One showed Chelsea placing a medal on Rodrick's uniform, on her toes.

The other showed them embracing near the training ground, jets blurring past behind them.

Rodrick's caption was brief, brutal: "Everyone, meet Chelsea Galloway—my girlfriend."

Her reply was sickly sweet: "Every step of the way, by your side, my love."

I thought rebirth had hardened me. But seeing it felt like taking rounds to the chest.

He gave away the acknowledgment I'd waited seven years for so easily.

Sarah was furious. "After what you said, rumors are flying that Chelsea's the other woman!

"He's doing damage control for her!

"This is insane! You're his legal wife..."

"Ms. Lopez," I cut in, my voice strangely calm, "has my transfer to the International Military Desk been approved?"

She paused. "You're sure? Giving up your spot here?"

"My mind's made up." I watched the city lights. "I turned down the International Military Desk for him seven years ago. I won't waste more time on him now."

Rodrick and I grew up together on the same military base. We knew each other from childhood all the way through adulthood.

After our parents died on that peacekeeping mission, we were all each other had.

On missions, he always took the point. His body armor showed it.

When he got shot shielding his team, I didn't sleep for three days at his bedside.

On my twenty-fifth birthday, the International Military Desk offer came. It was everything I wanted.

That night, Rodrick didn't speak. He just held my hand, eyes red, standing until dawn.

The next day, I refused the offer and became a war correspondent instead.

The field was brutal. We operated under the constant threat of bullets, artillery shells, and sniper fire.

A colleague once asked if it was worth it.

Back then, finding Rodrick's pre-mission notes in my gear, I thought it was.

But now...

My phone buzzed—Rodrick's special tone.

I waited a beat before answering.

Anger vibrated down the line. "Was that little show with Ceredig really necessary? You think that bothers me?

"Remember who pulled you out of that militant hostage situation? You need me."

I stayed silent.

Chelsea's sweet voice sounded in the background. "Rodrick, the cake!"

He answered her, his tone softening. "Chels and I have joint exercises. After it ends, I'll clear up the announcement. Don't cause trouble.

"Wait up tonight. I'll bring you that mango cake."

My mind drifted away.

He only joined the military because he came with me to a press conference. A base leader noticed him and recruited him.

I objected.

His dream was to be a researcher. Combat arms meant no lab.

But he went to the base commander anyway.

Later, he held me, eyes shining. "Aubrey, I don't want you struggling. I'll earn more honors. Give you a better life."

So he gave up his dream for me and dedicated himself fully to his military drills.

Our missions kept us apart more and more.

The first time rumors linked him to a junior officer, he drove seven hours to my base, held me, and apologized. He said it was nothing and he'd handle it.

I asked him to go public. He worried about his image and career, saying the timing was bad.

But he promised that his wife was me, only me.

I let it go for his sake until Chelsea appeared.

On a mission, some guys hassled her. She fled and fell into a river. Rodrick saved her.

She played the fragile, drenched victim in his arms.

The rumors exploded that night.

That time, Rodrick said nothing to me at all.

When I focused again, the line was dead.

Without thinking, I called the administration office and asked about divorce.

I needed this settled before I left the country.

What I didn't expect was for Rodrick to bring Chelsea home with him that night.

Chelsea peeked out from behind Rodrick, her face flushed. She dashed into my room with a giggle. "Aubrey! We brought you mango cake! Have some!"

Rodrick stood his ground, sounding somewhat resigned. "Slow down. You're drunk. Watch your step."

He paused, then looked at me. "Chels had too much to drink tonight. It's not safe for a woman to go back alone. She'll stay here tonight."

"Oh, right, you make a decent sober-up coffee, don't you? Make her a cup."

He was cheating, and now he was brazenly bringing her into our home and expected me to make her sober-up coffee!

I stood frozen, a chill spreading through me.

"Are you her only comrade in arms?"

At her medal ceremony, there must have been dozens of people there.

She could have stayed with anyone or gotten a hotel room.

Rodrick's face darkened. "Aubrey, when did you become so unreasonable?"

My voice began to tremble uncontrollably. "This is my home! Get out!"

Seeing the tears welling in my eyes, Rodrick relented. "Alright, Aubrey. I'll call someone to take her away right now."

He pulled out his phone, ready to make the call.

But the next second, a piercing scream cut the air, followed by a sickening thud.

Chelsea had fallen from my bedroom's second-story window.

Rodrick's face went pale. He dropped his phone and sprinted towards her.

I'd never seen that kind of panic in his eyes before.

"Chels!"

Chelsea lay limp in his arms, her eyes closed.

Rodrick looked up at me, his expression grim, a storm brewing in his gaze.

"I swear, it wasn't me. Do you believe me?"

His hand cracked across my face. The force slammed me against a pillar. I tasted blood.

"Aubrey Miller, you can't even lie convincingly?"

That slap shattered the last fragile hope I'd been clinging to.

As he turned, clutching Chelsea, ready to rush out, I stopped him.

"Wait."

I thrust the divorce papers at him. "Sign these. Or you're not leaving."

He shot me a furious glare and scrawled his signature without even looking at the document, then strode out, carrying Chelsea towards the hospital.

In the past, whenever we disagreed, I'd always pester him to write me a promise note and sign it, just to make myself feel better.

As he turned, I saw Chelsea, draped over his shoulder, open her eyes and flash me a triumphant smile.

The next day, my transfer to the International Military Desk was approved.

Simultaneously, the base forum exploded.

"Breaking! Lead Correspondent Aubrey Miller Involved in Love Triangle with Rodrick Wheeler and Chelsea Galloway—Pushes Rival from Window in Serious Injury!"

The post featured two photos: one showed me entering the military housing complex late at night, and the other showed Rodrick carrying Chelsea, following close behind.

The comments section was in an uproar.

"Is this real? Didn't Ms. Miller have a fiancé? Why would she get involved with someone else's man?"

"Yeah, she doesn't seem the type."

Just then, a hot comment shot to the top.

"Aubrey Miller never had a fiancé! She made it all up! She's always been obsessed with Major General Wheeler! She was jealous of his relationship with Chelsea. She sneaked into his place and pushed Chelsea from the second floor! I have proof. Aubrey was always his biggest fan!"

When Rodrick first joined, nobody knew him. I'd visited him on base.

I'd been extremely discreet. No one knew except us.

Now, this user posted evidence that felt like a physical blow.

My hands shook as I called Rodrick.

He didn't pick up until the fifth try.

"Rodrick, was it you..."

I couldn't think of anyone else who could have provided those pictures.

Silence hung on the other end.

After a long moment, his voice came through. "Aubrey, you did wrong first."

"What you said at the celebration made everyone think Chels was a homewrecker. It damaged her reputation. She faced a lot of criticism. Our announcement wasn't just for the joint exercises. It was mostly to fix her reputation, to clean up the mess you made. I thought you'd realize your mistake. But then you pushed her."

His words almost made me laugh through the tears.

"She isn't a homewrecker? Then what is she? That naive, innocent girl?"

"Aubrey, you are being utterly childish!"

Rodrick's angry shout cut me off.

"What's done is done. I don't want this feud to escalate. Apologize to Chels. I'll have her make a public statement forgiving you. Then this is over."

I tilted my head back, refusing to let any more tears fall.

"Rodrick. We're done.

"Today, I'm leaving. You and Chelsea can have each other."