After the breakup, I left the military in secret. My right hand crippled and my legs paralyzed, I assumed a new identity and opened a small pharmacy near the border.

Five years later, Harold walked into my store—just after a young officer who came for medicine told me that Harold had never married and had been waiting for me all these years.

Every head in the room instinctively turned toward him.

Five years apart, and he was still as striking as ever, his uniform impeccably sharp.

The sharp edges of his youth had worn away, replaced by a quiet, steady authority.

He watched me for a long time, his expression hesitant, as if he had countless things he wanted to say. In the end, he only said softly, "It's been a while, Flo."

"Yeah. It's been a long time," I replied lightly, my face betraying none of the emotions a long-awaited reunion might stir.

Five years ago, Winona claimed I had prescribed a substandard ointment that gave her an STD.

Harold flew into a rage.

He broke my dominant hand and posted our private photos—ones taken when we were in bed—on a military subreddit.

"Used her myself. Big breasts. Great in bed. Pleasant moans. And for free!"

His comrades tried to stop him. "You're about to marry Florence. Why ruin her?"

Harold looked indifferent. "Because of the substandard medication she'd prescribed, Winnie got sick, fell into depression, and nearly killed herself. Yet Florence still refuses to admit it. Someone like her doesn't deserve to be a doctor.

"I'm just bluffing. I'm not really letting her sleep with others to catch an STD."

I stood at the doorway, pale, meeting his eyes.

He showed no hint of remorse, running his fingers through my hair as he said, "You messed up. You deserve it.

"Cure Winnie. Apologize to her in person.

"And I'll still marry you."

Holding back my tears, I shared the link.

A second later, a message popped up. "I'll take her."

Harold crushed his wine glass in his hand, fury etched across his face.

The officers around him went silent.

Someone whispered, "General... maybe you should call it off. You could get yourself into trouble..."

Harold turned to me. "Florence, what do you think? Want to go apologize with me?"

I lowered my eyes and walked down the hall.

From behind me, his voice was casually cruel. "She doesn't care. Why are you all so nervous? If someone wants her, I'll let them have her."

As I made my way out, people pointed and whispered.

A wave of shame and grief washed over me.

Suddenly, a drunk man lunged at me, clutching my waist. "Word is you like men with STDs. Lucky for you—I've just been diagnosed with one..."

I screamed and struggled. The soldiers' wives passing by avoided me, their faces full of disgust.

Soft voices floated over. "That's her, right? The loose doctor from the clinic."

"Serves her right. And spare me the act. Crying for help after sharing that online? No one would believe her."

I shook violently and screamed at the top of my lungs, "My husband is a major general! Touch me and—"

"Wow, you really are shameless—married and still hooking up with guys like that online. Your chats are all over the place. What soldier would want you?"

He waved his phone at me. The screen burned my eyes.

"Get your husband here. If he shows up, I'll let you go."

The private room door at the end of the hallway opened.

Harold walked out with several officers.

I burst into tears. "Harry! Help me!"

Without looking at me, he smiled at the drunk man. "Congrats, buddy. She's got a thing for guys with STDs."

Then he walked away.

The drunk man laughed out loud. "I know you were lying. General Crawford doesn't want you!"

Just like that, I was violated. Pain blurred my senses, and blood streamed between my legs.

The man panicked and released me, cursing as he fled.

I staggered to the ER alone.

The baby was gone.

I had planned to tell Harold on our third anniversary.

But all that remained was a tray of blood and tissue.

My colleague on duty, Jeanette Norris, looked at me, hesitant.

"Dr. Garrett, General Crawford has pressured the hospital to take severe action against you. Your military medical license is being revoked. And the money and resources spent on training you—you'll have to pay that back. It comes to over 150,000 dollars."

I closed my eyes, a metallic taste filling my throat.

Jeanette choked up. "How did he end up like this? He almost faced disciplinary action just to have you transferred here. And during the last rescue, he ran headfirst into danger to save you.

"He loved you so much. Why would he ruin your hand, your future, all for an adopted sister?"

Yeah. Why?

I shook my head. I couldn't speak.

When I first met Harold, I didn't even know he had an adopted sister.

He was injured during a bomb disposal mission at the border. Shrapnel stopped two millimeters from his heart.

I stood at a field operating table for 14 hours straight to pull him back from death.

On the third day after he woke up, he had his aide bring me over.

Under the oxygen mask, his voice was hoarse as he smiled at me. "Dr. Garrett, you saved my life. From now on, I'm yours."

I thought it was just a wounded man speaking on impulse.

But he chased me for a full year. He secured the best medical equipment in the entire army for our field hospital.

Whenever he knew I'd missed meals, he'd come back from his drills with a lunchbox, waiting outside the clinic.

It was hard not to fall for him. But I was afraid to.

Until three years ago. A disgraced veteran stormed into the clinic with a weapon.

Harold shielded me completely. He took one stab to the shoulder and another to the arm.

The day his stitches were removed, I said yes.

For three years, everything was fine.

Until he missed our engagement ceremony.

Three days later, he showed up with Winona. He only said he forgot.

He asked me to take good care of her. I did everything I could.

Three days ago, Winona came to see me, complaining of lower abdominal pain.

She begged me not to tell Harold.

I thought she was just embarrassed. I ran tests and prescribed anti-inflammatories.

Then I saw the lab results—positive. I froze.

Before I could figure out how to tell her, Harold stormed in with his aide, protecting Winona, her eyes red from crying.

At his command, my right hand was smashed with a military baton.

I curled up on the floor in pain and asked him why.

He looked at me coldly. "I thought you were different. I didn't expect you to be this vicious.

"Because I missed the engagement, you gave Winnie bad ointment? You made her catch that kind of disease?

"She's only 21.

"You don't deserve this uniform. Breaking the hand you write prescriptions with is a lesson."

Winona suddenly burst into tears and pointed at the lab report on my desk. "Flo, you planned this! You hurt me and forged the test results!

"Do you hate me that much?! Then I'll just die!

"You already spread this report, didn't you? What's the point of my living anymore?"

She slammed herself toward the wall. Harold caught her just in time.

He turned to me, eyes icy. "Florence, you're willing to force my sister to death over an engagement?

"Publicly apologize. Admit you deliberately harmed a fellow soldier out of personal spite. Admit you falsified medical records."

Tears filled my eyes as I shook my head. "Harold, this will destroy everything I have.

"I didn't do it. I won't admit to something that I didn't do."

No matter how I argued, no matter how I begged him to have the ointment tested, he only signaled the military police. They forced my head down. In front of the entire medical staff, I was made to beg and slap myself in front of Winona a hundred times.

Blood dripped onto the floor. Phones were raised all around me.

In the end, I couldn't hold on anymore. I passed out.

When I woke up, I got a message from one of his comrades, telling me to go to a bar and talk things through with Harold.

Clinging to my last shred of hope, I went.

And heard him say, with my own ears, that he was giving me to someone else.

Seeing my pain, Jeanette said nothing more. She handed me a box of post-exposure meds.

"Take these on schedule. Come back in a month to confirm you're not infected."

I thanked her quietly and stumbled home in a daze.

My phone lit up with a message from my brother, Charles Garrett. Attached was a plane ticket.

"Flo, don't be afraid. I'm coming to get you. No matter the cost, I will heal you."

Tears instantly poured out. I cried myself to sleep.

Half-awake, someone suddenly grabbed my injured right wrist.

The pain was so sharp I screamed and jolted up.

"Don't touch me—!"

"Flo, it's me."

In the dim light, I saw his face. Harold.

He smelled like fresh soap. The exact same scent Winona always used.

My body froze.

He forced me into his arms, as if nothing had happened. "So what if I left you with that drunk and didn't step in? You're really making this a big deal? I can't even touch you now?

"Everyone in the military knows you're mine. With me around, who would dare actually hurt you? See? You're fine."

I trembled uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face.

He frowned, clearly annoyed. "Flo, you're a soldier. A military doctor. Is your mental strength really this weak?"

He picked up the medicine on the nightstand, his tone softening. "Does your wrist still hurt? I had someone get this special treatment drug. With this and physical therapy, you'll recover fast. It won't affect your ability to hold a scalpel.

"Stop being upset. Tomorrow morning, go apologize to Winnie in person. Once you do, this is over."

The calm I'd been forcing finally shattered. I looked up at him through tears. I said softly, "Harold, let's break up... "

The moment I finished speaking, he lowered his head to check his communicator. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

He suddenly looked up at me. "What did you just say?"

Before I could repeat myself, he waved it off impatiently. "The drill allowance just came in. Buy whatever you want. Take it from my card. Call it compensation.

"Winnie wants to help you pick a wedding dress," he added. "Come with me now. Try them on so she can see."

He gripped my wrist, his voice soft but laced with menace. "This time, do as she says and let her get it out of her system. Got it?

"Cause trouble again and I'll really hand you over to that buyer."

He didn't care how I felt. He forced me into the car and took me to the bridal shop.

I followed in silence.

The medal necklace my mother left me had been kept at the shop. I planned to wear it on my wedding day.

Now that I thought about it, there was pretty much no point.

Winona was already there, as gentle and timid as ever.

I searched her face for even a trace of guilt or triumph. There was nothing.

She hid behind Harold, voice trembling. "Flo... don't look at me like that. I'm scared."

"Florence!" Harold shot me a warning look and squeezed my injured wrist, not hard, not light.

Pain drained the color from my face. I clenched my teeth as I replied, "I wasn't."

Only then did Winona smile. "Let's go look at the dresses, Flo!"

The clerk brought out the wedding gown Harold had had custom-made for me.

Winona's eyes lit up. She leaned against Harold and spoke softly. "Harry, can I try it on? Just once..."

Her eyes suddenly reddened. "I'm already dirty. I may never get to wear my own wedding dress... Let me have this, just as a dream. Please?"

Harold looked at her with pure pity. "Okay."

Then he looked at me. The pressure in his gaze was unmistakable.

I closed my eyes and nodded.

"Thank you, Harry!" Winona said happily. Then her eyes fell on the necklace beside the gown.

"Wow... It's so pretty. Harry, can I get it? I want it as a keepsake."

I snapped awake and rushed forward. "No! You can't—"

"Give it to her." Harold's hand was already in front of me.

It felt like my heart was smashed with a hammer. I clutched the medal tightly. "Harold, this is the only thing my mother left me..."

"So what?" He pried my fingers open without hesitation. "You owe Winnie. Consider this compensation."

"No! You can punish me however you want, but not this!"

I lunged for it in despair.

Just as my fingers were about to touch the necklace, Winona suddenly screamed and stumbled backward.

"Flo, why did you push me?!"

"Winnie!" Harold shoved me aside and rushed to catch her.

My footing slipped. I tumbled down the stairs.

It felt like my bones shifted out of place. Pain exploded. My vision went black.

A metallic sweetness surged up my throat. I spat out really dark blood.

When I woke up again, I was in the military hospital.

Jeanette looked at me with heavy regret.

"Florence, your lumbar injury is too severe. We saved your legs, but... you may never be able to stand again."

I stared at my numb lower body. Tears flooded my eyes.

Even if my hand could still hold a scalpel, if I couldn't stand, I'd never be able to stand at an operating table again.

Jeanette's eyes reddened, too.

"General Crawford is ruthless. You're hurt like this, and he didn't even ask. His adopted sister twisted her ankle, yet he called in the entire medical team!

"Dr. Garrett, we feel awful for you."

If this were before, those words would've torn my heart apart.

Now, there was only cold silence.

I wiped my tears. "Help me get discharged."

The plane would take off in three hours.

If I left now, I'd make it.

Everything with Harold should end here.

I picked up my phone and sent him everything. All the records of Winona framing me.

After that, I changed into civilian clothes and turned my wheelchair toward the door.

The ward door was shoved open.

Harold rushed in, still in combat gear, cold air clinging to him. He slammed a hand down on my wheelchair.

Jeanette couldn't help herself. "General Crawford! You're finally here! Do you know Dr. Garrett—"

"I know." He cut her off.

Then he let out a cold laugh, raised his hand, and slapped me hard across the face.

Paralyzed from the waist down, I took the slap full-on.

Gasps erupted as I fell out of the wheelchair. My forehead smashed into the floor. Blood started gushing down.

Harold sneered. "I've read what you sent."

I snapped my head right up.

"Why...?"

My voice shook. My heart felt like it was being carved apart with a dull blade.

"Those so-called proofs almost fooled me," he said coldly. "I almost believed Winnie framed you. Almost."

Then he pulled a box of HIV post-exposure meds from his pocket and smashed it into my face.

"Winnie found this in your locker. Explain this. Why would something like this be among your personal belongings?"

My eyes flew open.

"General Crawford, you misunderstood! This is—"

Before the head nurse could finish, Harold kicked her in the stomach. She doubled over in pain.

Seeing him raise his leg again, I screamed and tried to crawl toward them.

Harold didn't hesitate. He stomped down on me. His combat boots crushed into my already damaged spine.

White-hot pain exploded. My vision went black. Cold sweat soaked my back.

He grabbed my chin, his eyes full of disgust and disappointment.

"Florence, you really hid it well. You played the calm, untouchable saint. I chased you for two full years before you finally said yes. I really thought you were clean. Turns out you're rotten to the core.

"No wonder a single ointment couldn't infect Winnie," he went on. "So you passed your filthy disease to her. And now you even tried to push her down the stairs and cripple her?"

"I didn't..." The words barely slipped out between my teeth.

I looked at him desperately. "This medicine is—"

"Shut up!" he roared. "You still want to lie to me? I won't believe you ever again!"

He flung me aside like a dirty rag.

"Before, I thought you hurt Winnie with bad medicine and forged records just because I missed the engagement. I even went easy on you. Thought scaring you a little and letting Winnie vent would be enough.

"But I never imagined you could be this inhuman. This time, I won't indulge you."

He turned his face away.

"The engagement is off. I will never marry a toxic woman like you."

I closed my eyes. "Fine."

His fist clenched with a sharp crack. "You think this is over?

"Winnie said the pain you caused her must be returned. Those infected soldiers are already on the way. You'll be handed over to them.

"Florence, this is your atonement."

He stared at me, hard and unblinking.

He was waiting to see fear. Waiting to see me beg and break.

But I only lay there, hollow inside, and closed my eyes.

"You bitch!" He cursed and slammed the door.

Minutes later, the door opened again.

My chest tightened. I whispered through tears, "Chas, you're here..."

But when I opened my eyes, it wasn't Charles. It was several men with sallow faces and bodies covered in festering sores.

Behind them stood Winona.

I screamed and tried to crawl back. But my paralyzed legs and broken wrist left me helpless.

Winona laughed when she saw me like this.

"Look at you now. Like a dying dog. You really thought you could steal Harry from me? You were asking for death."

"You probably don't know this," she continued softly. "I was his first love. Back then, he insisted on being with me. His father beat him with a military baton a hundred times. His leg cracked, and he still wouldn't give up.

"You think he wanted to marry you because he loved you? Not a chance. Father said I could only be transferred back to the military zone if he got married. So he picked and chose... and landed on you."

Her eyes gleamed with malice. "Do you know why it was you? Because your back looks the most like mine. He said when he does it with you with the lights off, it feels just like being with me."

My chest seized. Tears came in a flood.

I remembered the first time we were together. I'd accidentally turned on the bedside lamp.

His face changed instantly. He pulled away and went to the bathroom.

He came back much later, hugged me, and apologized softly. "Sorry... I was a little nervous."

I thought it was romantic. I thought he was just restrained by nature.

Now, I knew the truth.

Seeing my lifeless expression, Winona clapped happily. "Serve her well. I want her completely ruined. Ruined to the point that even one look from Harry makes him feel sick."

The hospital room was locked tight.

***

Next door, separated by a single wall, Harold sat silently. My cries and screams pierced through the wall. His hand, hanging at his side, trembled slightly.

A soft pair of hands held his.

"Don't worry, Harry. I told them to just scare her. Once she passes out, they'll send her for treatment."

He let out a low hum and pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head.

"Thank you for forgiving her, Winnie."

His gaze was gentle. "I did want to marry her. But she couldn't tolerate you. I'll send her to a sanatorium to reflect properly."

A flicker of cruelty flashed in Winona's eyes. She tilted her head up and kissed his lips. "Then, before she comes back, spend more time with me, okay?"

As their lips tangled, a sudden crash exploded from next door.

Outside the building, screams rang out. "Someone jumped! It's Dr. Garrett!"