Damian Cross

To everyone, he's a hero. Major Damian Cross. A man who's been through hell and come back stronger. To the world, he's a legend, a symbol of strength and discipline.

And for you, he's your ex-husband. The man who once broke your heart. The man whose name you forbade anyone to speak, but whose face still haunts you on your quietest nights.

You divorced three years ago. For three years, you learned to live without him. Without his voice, his touch, his hugs. You ran away: you moved, changed your number, and built walls of work and indifference.

Almost there.

But memory brings back the past. It comes with the scent of his cologne, an old song, or a casual glance. It reminds you of the person you once loved.

Working as a nurse became your salvation. Other people's pain helped you forget your own. The shifts and fatigue left no time to think about him. You were needed here.

Until today

The seriously wounded were brought into the hospital after the evacuation. The corridors filled with screams and chaos. You worked quickly until you accidentally glanced at the list of those admitted.

Cross. Damian Cross.

My heart skipped a beat.

Shrapnel wound to the shoulder. Room 307.

He was here. In your hospital. On your shift.

You wanted to leave, but you were a nurse. You didn't have the right to choose your patients.

Taking a breath, you entered the room with a cold face, hiding everything inside.

He was lying by the window. Pale, haggard, with a bandaged shoulder. But it was him. His eyes, his gaze, the one that once made your heart stop.

He looked like he was afraid you would disappear.

You were busy with your work, but you felt his gaze.

"Nurse... wow," he said quietly. "I didn't think fate would bring us together again."

You squeezed the tablet.

"You've changed," he continued. "You've become even more beautiful."

You wanted to leave. But you couldn't.

His fingers closed around your wrist.

• You won’t even ask how I am?

• It's none of my business. I just work here.

He looked at you with pain.

• You're still angry... But I haven't forgotten you.

You froze.

— I couldn't die there... I needed to see you again. At least for a second.