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Shattered Dreams, Lingering Years Novel Cover

Shattered Dreams, Lingering Years

At his victory gala, Brett Graham publicly claims I am his destiny, despite our divorce. He boasts of his heroism during a hostage crisis, yet his claims are lies. On the battlefield, he chose to save his mistress instead of me. Now, as he expects glory, the military medal is awarded to me. From the stage, I expose his betrayal to the world, declaring that a soldier who prioritizes a lover over duty is a disgrace to his uniform and the profession.
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Chapter 3

Bang! I slammed the door shut. I wouldn't waste another second on that loser.

The victory party was held at the Aceville Global Hotel. I appeared in a long white embroidered dress.

But a woman in a striking red dress, radiating a bold, dazzling aura, had already captured everyone's attention.

Glass of champagne in hand, she clinked glasses with everyone in the room. An uninformed observer might have mistaken her for the hostess of this celebration.

"Ms. Evans, we've heard so much about you. The success of this rescue operation is largely thanks to you, isn't it?"

"Indeed, your translation skills are said to be top-notch in the country."

Yolanda's smile widened at the praise. "Oh, it was all Brett's doing. I just helped a little."

With a few coy remarks, she deftly steered all credit back to Brett, making them seem like some dream team.

I showed little reaction. Yolanda sure was persistent, always making sure she had people singing her praises wherever she went.

As soon as I arrived, those who truly understood the details of the rescue operation gathered around.

"Dr. Jenkins, is it true you fired your weapon on-site?"

"Under such dangerous circumstances, how did you manage to maintain complete trust in Colonel Graham?"

"It's said you and your husband have spent very little time together since marrying. Is that true?"

Before I could answer a single question, Brett had already snatched the microphone.

"My wife just returned to the country and isn't feeling her best. You can direct your questions to me."

Hearing this, the reporters all gushed about how incredibly doting he was.

Only I knew that Brett was scared I might say something he didn't want heard.

"So, Colonel Graham, what do you believe was the key to the final success of the rescue operation?"

"I believe it was due to meticulous planning and the close coordination among the peacekeeping forces."

"Alright. My next question is, was it because your wife, Dr. Jenkins, was among the hostages that you acted so fearlessly?"

"Of course not. As a peacekeeping soldier, my duty is to uphold world peace. However, my wife's presence did give me extra courage."

He answered the reporters' questions while gazing at me with a look of deep affection.

The reporters had had enough of this display of affection.

Only I felt sick looking at his hypocritical act.

"Dr. Jenkins, what did you see when you fired your weapon? Your expression in the surveillance footage seemed particularly sorrowful."

A female reporter pushed through the crowd, asking the question she most wanted answered.

I had just taken the microphone. My lips barely parted when a sharp female voice cut through the air.

"Eileen was so sad because she saw Colonel Graham get injured while trying to save her!"

As Yolanda's voice faded, all eyes turned to the bandage wrapped around Brett's ear.

He was indeed injured.

"Just a graze," Brett quickly added, picking up Yolanda's thread.

Brett couldn't help but watch my expression closely, searching for any reaction.

But I remained utterly calm throughout, seemingly unbothered by Yolanda's interruption.

Brett finally relaxed a little, gently placing his hand on my waist. "Thank you, darling."

Hearing his intimate tone, I simply and subtly pushed his hand away.

"If you had told me back then that the person you liked was me, I would never have married Eileen."

"Brett, I'm so scared. I wish I could just hold you before I die."

I recited, word for word, what the two had said in the surveillance recording.

What I was waiting for was the moment this hypocrite, Brett, lost control of his expression upon hearing these words.

Look at what he did and the people celebrating him today. What a stark contrast and bitter irony this was!

"Eileen, if you're angry, blame me. It has nothing to do with Brett."

Yolanda seized the moment to step between Brett and I, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to fall.

"Blame you? Blame you, the crucial translator, for running away when the crisis hit?"

I stood at 172cm, looking down at Yolanda from a height.

No matter how glam Yolanda dressed, she was nothing next to me.

"Did no one teach you? A translator holding a military position has the same duty as a soldier on the battlefield! And this is how you fulfill it? Treating everyone's safety as a joke for your own personal gain?"

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