For a single second, his expression cracked.
Then it smoothed back into calm.
“How did you get here?” he asked, his voice distant, almost cold.
Sylvia turned to me. “Honey, who is this?”
The officers around us exchanged glances, then one of them laughed and answered for him.
“Who else could she be? Just a friend of Major General Hale’s.”
“Don’t worry, Colonel Zott. Everyone knows how devoted he is to you.”
Bert stepped forward, placing himself between Sylvia and me as if my very existence were inconvenient.
“She’s a classmate from the academy,” he said evenly.
Then he looked to the orderly beside him.
“Escort this comrade out. Don’t let her interfere with work.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
But his eyes never returned to me. They stayed on Sylvia, warm and careful, while the orderly came to usher me away.
Bert just held Sylvia’s hand.
“Come on. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
She rose on tiptoe and kissed his cheek with a smile. “You’re the best.”
As they passed me, Sylvia glanced back and said softly, “Honey, isn’t it a little rude to leave your classmate like this?”
Without even turning around, Bert answered, “She’s not someone I know that well. She’s not important.”
Not someone I know that well.
My tears burst out before I could stop them.
People passing through the building—officers, clerks, civilian staff—shot me all kinds of looks. Curiosity. Mockery. Contempt.
Seven years of knowing him. Five years of loving him from a distance. Crossing mountains and states to reach him.
And in the end, all I got was one sentence.
Not someone I know that well.
Three days earlier, he had texted me: Shari, just give me a little more time. When I make major general, I’ll file the marriage paperwork.
For that one promise, I had given up a career that was finally taking off. I had come all this way with my whole future in my hands.
I never imagined the future I was running toward was a lie from beginning to end.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Bert.
Go with the orderly for now. I’ll explain later.
I stared at the screen, my chest tightening, and finally typed back: Why did you lie to me?
His reply came quickly, colder than before.
Go back first. Be good. Don’t embarrass me in the District.
Don’t embarrass me.
Suddenly, all the times I had wanted to visit San Antonio and he had stopped me—claiming he was on assignment, that it wasn’t convenient, that things were too complicated—made perfect sense.
He had never been keeping me away because of work.
He had been keeping me away because he was afraid I would ruin the performance.
I had barely wiped my tears when I heard whispers nearby, followed by the faint sound of phone cameras snapping.
“Who is she?”
“She actually came all the way here?”
“She’s pretty, but wow, what kind of shameless woman does this?”
I turned sideways at once and covered my face.
“I’m not the other woman,” I choked out. “Bert lied to me—”
The only answer I got was suppressed laughter and even bolder staring.
The orderly loaded my luggage into a car and almost forced me into the back seat.
Half an hour later, the car stopped in front of a quiet single-family home in the military housing compound.
Bert had always told me he lived in a cramped shared dorm.
I had worried about him for years, afraid he was suffering alone in a strange city. I had mailed him half my paycheck almost every month, cutting down my own expenses because I wanted him to have enough.
The orderly led me inside, stepped back out, and locked the door from the outside.
“Wait here for Major General Hale.”
A light, elegant women’s perfume lingered in the air.
A few months ago, when Bert had taken leave to visit me, I had smelled that same scent on him.
I turned around.
And froze.
Hanging on the living room wall was an enormous wedding portrait.
Sylvia in a white gown, leaning against Bert in dress uniform.
The date printed in the lower corner stabbed right through me.
The day they had taken those wedding photos was my birthday.
That had been the first birthday Bert had ever missed.
He had told me an urgent mission had come up. He couldn’t possibly get away.
I stumbled toward the bedroom, almost tripping over my own feet.
The walls were full of photographs of him and Sylvia together.
Inside the closet, his uniforms hung beside her lace nightgowns.
And the last shred of hope inside me shattered completely when I saw the half-empty box of condoms on the bedside table.
So this was what he meant when he said he was busy.
Busy building a home with another woman.
I slid down onto the cold floor and wrapped my arms around my knees, crying until my throat burned raw.
I didn’t know how long I stayed like that.
Only that by the time the front door opened again, it felt like my whole life had already turned to ash.