Chapter 2

I submitted the divorce papers to military headquarters.

The first person to come looking for me was my mother-in-law, Eleanor.

She was usually stern and efficient, but now her face was etched with embarrassment and shame. She sat before me, her voice unusually soft:

"Chloe, my son made a mistake, he got carried away for a moment!"

"But Richard and I, and your parents, share a bond that's thicker than blood, a friendship forged in the toughest times. And now you're pregnant, being a single mom is incredibly tough. Please, think it over."

My expression was firm.

"Please, I beg you as a mother. I promise I'll make sure he changes! How about this: give him half a month. If he’s still making a fool of himself, I’ll personally agree to the divorce."

My hand instinctively went to my still-flat stomach, and my mind drifted back to my first encounter with Hunter Stone.

I was eight years old. My parents were stationed in a remote border region when a dangerous incident involving criminals broke out.

During the sudden outbreak of violence, the perpetrators grew enraged and took many hostages.

Hunter and I were among them.

Those five hours felt like five years.

In my fear, Hunter held my hand tightly and comforted me:

"Don't be scared, little sister, the adults will definitely come and rescue us!"

When the criminals came to pick hostages to beat and coerce the outside world, he bravely shielded me, hiding my small frame behind him.

He ended up getting his face smashed by a rifle butt.

He was still bleeding when we were rescued.

I threw myself onto him, crying inconsolably, but he just smiled and playfully tapped my nose:

"I told you big brother would protect you, and I kept my word. Don't cry, you silly goose."

The flutter I felt from that single sentence still echoed in my heart to this day.

I agreed to my mother-in-law's request.

Hunter didn't return until midnight.

He seemed oblivious to the whirlwind of gossip and speculation that kiss, witnessed by everyone, had caused. He acted as if nothing had happened, telling me:

"Still awake? We're preparing for drills these next few days, so I might not be back. You don't have to wait up for me."

"Once this period is over, I'll take a day off, just for you."

I looked at his indistinct features in the moonlight and said, "Okay."

When his leave came, Hunter kept his promise and focused entirely on me.

He personally bought groceries and cooked, feeding me and even carefully picking out fish bones.

He was incredibly patient, as gentle as water.

Just like when we first got married.

After nightfall, he took me hiking.

I put on my jacket, first wondering why he'd like mountains when he was always out on training drills.

Then it hit me: it wasn't the mountains he disliked, it was *me*.

I had once mentioned wanting to watch the sunrise from a mountaintop.

Once we reached the summit and set up our tent, Hunter pulled me into his embrace.

I felt his intense heat and quickly said:

"Hunter, I'm pregnant."

He kissed my hair, his breath burning, and chuckled:

"I consulted a doctor. It's been four months. I'll be careful, it's fine. Don't you miss me?"

I remained silent, neither responding nor resisting.

The tent was small and dark, and the man pressing down on me felt like my only salvation.

Passion burned until sunrise.

As we descended the mountain and headed back, the military compound was bustling with noise. Hunter suddenly froze.

I looked in the direction he was staring.

It was Veronica.

She was wearing an expensive, beautiful shirt, completely unwrinkled, her ponytail draped over one shoulder, gleaming black in the sunlight.

She gazed at Hunter, as if wanting to say something.

Hunter's hand, which had been resting on my waist, suddenly dropped.

His entire body instinctively turned towards Veronica.

His knee lifted, then froze in mid-air, only to be lowered again.

Finally, his hand once more clasped my waist, urging me to walk faster.

I remained silent throughout, yet despite being the "victor," my heart felt heavy.