His Madness Took a Life, But Not My Love

Lovell's POV

When I had no news from him, I couldn't fall asleep, worried he might text me, but also worried he might not.

Night after night, I cried myself to sleep, holding onto memories of our five years together until his mission ended and he finally came back to me.

Now, in my daze and heartbreak, I didn’t even notice him walk into the bedroom until he spotted me sitting on the floor.

“Lovell? The floor’s cold. What are you doing down there? Are you feeling alright?”

His voice was full of concern, his eyes soft and steady, just like they used to be.

Horace had always treated me well through our five years together before he left, and even in this past month since his return. Truth was indeed too cruel.

I quickly locked my phone and forced a smile.

“I think my blood sugar dropped for a second. I just got a little dizzy. I’m okay.”

He let out a sigh of relief and gently helped me up from the floor.

“Let’s go to the beach tomorrow. I’ll have my second-in-command book the tickets. You’ve always loved the ocean, haven’t you? We could also take our wedding photos on the beach. How does that sound?”

He was still as thoughtful as ever. But after what I’d just heard, his sweet words only made me feel sick.

“I don't think it's a great idea.”

He froze for a second, then reached out and softly brushed the back of my hand.

“What’s wrong, Lovell? Did something happen? We promised each other, remember? No secrets between us ever.”

Hearing that, that was the final straw. I looked him straight in the eye.

“Horace, are you sure you’re not hiding anything from me?”

He paused, then gave me that familiar, gentle smile.

“What could I possibly be hiding from you?”

I fought the sting behind my eyes and gave a small nod.

“Alright. Let’s sleep. I’m tired.”

The next morning, loud knocking woke us up early.

Horace went to open the door. Standing there was a woman, eyes red from crying, holding a toddler who looked about two or three years old.

“Horace, he’s been crying for his dad all night. He wouldn’t sleep. I know you told me not to come here, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

Panic flickered across Horace’s face. He quickly turned around to see how I’d react and quickly made up a reason.

“Lovell, don’t get it wrong. This is Jaylee, our team medic. Her husband was my teammate, a close friend. He died during a mission. I’ve just been helping them get by because I felt sorry for them, so—”

Before he could finish, the woman, Jaylee Horton, interrupted with a choked voice.

“Miss Porter, I know you two are getting married. I don’t mean to cause trouble. But the child keeps asking for his dad. I just—”

I cut her off, locking eyes with Horace.

“The kid wants his dad. So, why come to you? Are you his father, Horace?”

Horace shot Jaylee a sharp look, then turned back to me.

“Of course not, Lovell! He’s over two years old, how could he be mine? His real father died saving me, so I’ve been helping them since. The boy probably sees his father in me, so he's calling me ‘dad.' It’s just all a misunderstanding.”

I looked closely at the boy’s face. He was still so young, but his features looked a lot like Horace's.

But Grandpa was coming to get me tomorrow night, and I didn’t want to make a scene now, so I swallowed the pain clawing at my chest and nodded.

"Alright. Take care of them then. I’m going back upstairs to get some more rest.”

With that, I turned and walked away, but Horace followed behind me, step by step.