When my senses returned, I realized he wasn't looking at me. His gaze passed straight through my spectral form, settling on Camilla behind me.
"Sir!" A young recruit burst into the room, his face pale as he relayed Marcus's urgent message. Unaware of the tangled history between us, he stammered, "The... the patient Dr. Marcus was working on... she's been pronounced brain-dead. He asked if you wanted to... see her."
Chad rose without hesitation, walking to Camilla's bedside. She was moaning softly in her sleep.
He replied firmly, "Marcus is one of our best combat medics. If he's called it, it's over."
The recruit froze, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and accusation.
I shook my head. This was Chad. He’d seen too much death to be moved by it. He focused on the living; the dead were a sunk cost, unworthy of grief.
But Chad, it’s not just anyone. It’s me. Your partner. The woman who fought by your side for years. You won’t even see me one last time? How much do you really hate me? I thought, a wave of sorrow washing over me.
His lips pressed into a thin, hard line. "I have to take care of this girl," he explained calmly.
The recruit glanced at the cot. Seeing Camilla, unharmed and merely pale, his expression soured with disgust.
He shot Chad a strange, unreadable look before turning and leaving in silence.
Moments later, Marcus stormed in. He grabbed Chad's arm, his voice grave. "Chad, there might still be a chance if we remove the shrapnel from her brain! You're a top neurosurgeon, come with me!"
Seeing Marcus's grief-stricken face, my chest ached anew.
But Chad gently freed his arm from Marcus's grip. "Marcus, calm down. You're an experienced doctor. You know when it's time to let go."
A hot, uncontrollable rage surged through me. I lunged to slap him, to make him feel something, but my hand passed right through his cheek. Useless!
Marcus’s jaw dropped, words failing him. When he finally spoke, his voice was heavy with conviction. "The family needs her." His gaze flickered meaningfully toward Camilla.
A profound sorrow washed over me—for my men, fighting for me even now, and for the chilling indifference of the man who had shared my life and my bed.
Chad paused, then patted Marcus's shoulder. "My condolences. Pay my respects to our fallen comrade for me."
Marcus's eyes reddened, brimming with unshed tears. He stared at Chad. "You'll regret this," he choked out, then bolted from the room without waiting for a reply.
