Chapter 2

The shock hit my body like a delayed-action mine. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and the room started to spin. I grabbed the edge of the desk to steady myself, my leg giving out from under me. I crumpled to the floor, the broken filing cabinet a twisted monument to my shattered life. The pain in my leg wasn't just a dull ache anymore, it was a searing fire, a physical manifestation of the betrayal burning through my veins.

My breath came in ragged gasps. My heart hammered against my ribs, not with anger, but with a profound, world-ending agony. Every memory of Sarah was now tainted, every touch a lie, every loving word a calculated manipulation.

The front door opened.

"Liam? Liam, where are you? What was that noise?"

It was her. Her voice, thick with a manufactured concern, drifted down the hall. I heard her quick footsteps, the sound that used to mean safety, comfort. Now it sounded like the approach of an enemy.

She appeared in the doorway of the office, her eyes widening at the scene. She saw me on the floor, the wrecked cabinet, the papers scattered around me. Her face, a mask of practiced sympathy, immediately crumpled.

"Oh my god, Liam! Your leg! Are you okay?"

She rushed to my side, her hands fluttering over me, checking for injuries.

"What happened? Did you fall?"

I just stared at her. I studied the curve of her lips, the feigned worry in her eyes. It was a masterful performance. For years, I had been her captive audience, and I had given her a standing ovation every single time.

"Don't touch me," I said, my voice a low growl.

She flinched, pulling her hands back as if burned. "Liam, what's wrong? You're scaring me."

"Am I?" I let out a short, harsh laugh. "That's funny. I'm the one who should be scared."

I pushed myself up, leaning heavily on the desk. I held up the marriage certificate. Her eyes darted to the paper, and for a split second, the mask slipped. I saw it. Pure, cold panic.

Then it was gone, replaced by a flood of tears.

"Liam, please," she sobbed, reaching for me again. "It's not what you think. I was going to tell you. I was just waiting for the right time."

"The right time?" I repeated, the words tasting like ash. "Was that going to be before or after you drained my pension completely? When was the 'right time' to tell me my entire life was a fraud, Sarah?"

"He forced me!" she cried, her voice rising. "Miller... he's a powerful man. He threatened me. He threatened you! I did it to protect you, Liam!"

The lies were so easy for her, so natural. She was weaving a new reality right in front of my eyes, trying to patch the gaping hole in the old one.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out. A text from an unknown number.

Heard you found out. A man like you should've known better. Some SEAL. You can't even keep your own wife.

It wasn't signed. It didn't need to be. The arrogance, the taunting cruelty-it was pure Miller. He was pouring salt on the wound, enjoying every second of my torment.

I showed the screen to Sarah. Her face went pale.

"Who is this?" she whispered, her act faltering.

"You know exactly who it is," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "Your husband."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, Liam, you're my husband. In my heart. It was always you."

She came closer, placing a gentle hand on my chest. Her touch was poison.

"We can fix this," she whispered, her eyes pleading. "I'll leave him. I'll do anything. Just please, don't hate me. We've been through so much together. Remember?"

She started talking about the past, about our first apartment, about the dog we'd adopted, about the promises we'd made under a sky full of stars. She was trying to weaponize my memories against me, the same memories that were now instruments of torture.

I looked at her, truly looked at her, and I saw a stranger. The woman I loved had never existed. She was a ghost, a character Sarah had played to perfection. And I, the broken soldier, was her fool. The love I felt, the family I thought we had built, was it all just a business transaction? Was my son, my own flesh and blood... no, I couldn't even let my mind go there. That was a line of pain I wasn't ready to cross.

The doorbell rang, a shrill, intrusive sound that shattered the tense silence.

Sarah's head snapped toward the door, a new wave of fear in her eyes. "Don't answer that."

"Why not?" I asked, a grim smile touching my lips. "Expecting company?"

I walked past her, my limp more pronounced than ever. I pulled open the front door.

Captain Miller stood on my porch. He was dressed in a tailored suit, his hair perfectly coiffed, a smug, proprietary smile on his face. He held a bouquet of expensive-looking roses. His eyes flicked past me, into the house.

"Sarah, darling," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Forgot your purse."

He stepped inside, his presence filling the space, sucking all the air out of it. He was marking his territory.

Sarah stood frozen in the hallway, her face a mess of conflicting emotions. She didn't run to him. She didn't run to me. She just stood there, caught between her two lives.

Miller's eyes landed on me, a flicker of amusement in their depths. "Hayes. Good to see you on your feet." He gestured with the flowers. "Didn't mean to interrupt your... whatever this is."

He walked over to Sarah, his movements casual, possessive. He handed her the roses, and his hand brushed against hers. She didn't pull away. She just stared at me, her eyes wide and pleading, as if I was the one who needed to fix this impossible situation.

In that moment, watching them together in the home I thought was mine, the last vestiges of my old life burned away. The grief, the shock, the pain-they were still there, but now they were hardening into something else. Something cold and unyielding.

The battle for my past was over. I had lost.

But the war for my future was just beginning.