My Heart's Headed for the Lonely Shore

Soft footsteps approached the bedside. Joseph stood there for a long, silent moment, looking down at her.

Mariah endured the pain wracking her body—a silent, drawn-out execution.

The door pushed open. “Battalion Commander Joseph, could you come collect the medicine?”

“Coming.”

Their voices faded. Mariah opened her eyes and saw it at once: the jacket draped over the edge of the bed.

The one Joseph had been wearing.

Gritting through the pain, she forced herself up and pulled the photograph from its pocket—the one Joseph treasured.

In it, Piper wore a white dress, her smile bright and radiant. Beside her, Joseph gazed at her with a tenderness that seemed to melt the very air.

Behind them stood the large camphor tree outside the Mariah family home.

From the second-floor window, Mariah’s parents looked down, their expressions holding a gentle tolerance she had never received.

She had always known. Though she and Piper were twins, Piper had been frail since childhood, falling ill at the slightest change. Their mother believed Mariah had stolen her sister’s share of nutrients in the womb.

Her parents’ most frequent words to her were: “You have to give way to your sister. You owe her that.”

So Mariah grew used to yielding to Piper in everything. The only time she ever held her ground was when the provincial assignment came down.

Originally, the leadership had favored keeping Mariah at the Provincial Broadcasting Station as an announcer. When her parents found out, they made a scene, begging for an opportunity for Piper too.

Harassed beyond patience, the official said offhandedly that only one of the sisters could stay.

Of course, her parents seized Mariah and demanded she yield the position once more.

But Mariah—"ungrateful" as they called her—refused.

That time, things nearly escalated to severing ties altogether.

She endured every insult hurled her way. In the end, it was Joseph’s sudden marriage proposal that made her leave the provincial job for Piper.

Until yesterday, Mariah had never regretted her choice.

How could she, when she’d loved Joseph so desperately?

Then the typhoon destroyed everything.

Including the lie Joseph had so carefully woven.

*Plip.*

A few tears fell onto the photograph, blurring Piper’s delicate, smiling face.

“Mariah, what are you doing?”

Joseph’s low roar cut through the air.

A rush of movement—he shoved her aside, hard, and snatched the photo from her bandaged hand.

“Who gave you the right to touch my things?”

Carefully, he wiped the tears from the photograph before turning to Mariah, his eyes like shards of ice.

“It was just that I didn’t go to save you right away, wasn’t it? Isn’t an apology enough?”

Mariah studied him closely, taking in every nuance: the boundless tenderness he held for Piper, and the disgust he directed at her.

“Heh.” A low, choked laugh escaped her throat. The tears fell harder.

Joseph seemed to calm down, as if realizing his tone had been too harsh.

“…Don’t overthink it. When I was a kid, I nearly drowned. Piper saved me. I owe her my life.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze shifting to Mariah’s hand. “Next time, don’t touch my things without my permission. Understand?”

Mariah didn’t answer. She just wept silently.

Joseph’s frown deepened. Finally, his patience ran out.

“Mariah, when you married me, I told you. Following the army to this island would mean a hard life. You swore you weren’t afraid of hardship or exhaustion. What is this now?”

“The path of revolution is full of hardship. If you’re going to act spoiled, I’ll write the application immediately. You can go back to my hometown and take care of my parents.”

He put his jacket back on and shot her a cold glance.

“Your hand needs another debridement soon. I’ll tell the doctor not to use anesthetic. Consider it a lesson.”

There was no proper hospital on the island, only a modest military clinic.

When Mariah was wheeled into the treatment room, Joseph followed.

His friend, the military doctor surnamed Mason, was checking his instruments.

Joseph spoke up abruptly. “No anesthetic.”