Chapter 12
That day, Daniel never left the bedroom. He sat alone in the empty room, his fingers unconsciously tracing the faded scarf.
Outside, the sky grew dark as the last rays of sunlight filtered through the window, casting a warm golden glow across the floor. He stared at that patch of light and suddenly saw Valentina as she was years ago.
She was in a light blue dress, standing under the sycamore trees on the base grounds. She held a magazine in her hands as sunlight dappled through the leaves, the shifting shadows highlighting her porcelain skin and delicate features.
That was the first time he’d ever seen her.
Five years ago, Daniel had just been promoted to captain and was reporting to the base for the first time. He spotted a group of young officers across the courtyard crowding around a woman, all trying to get her attention.
She stood at the center of it all with a polite smile. But her eyes seemed distant and
disinterested, clearly not impressed by any of their attempts at conversation.
“Who’s that?” he asked his aide.
“Valentina Frost. She just transferred to the military theater troupe. College graduate, great writer–she’s even published articles in magazines!” The aide lowered his voice.
“Half the guys on base are after her, but she’s turned them all down. Word is she’s got pretty high standards.”
Daniel said nothing, but his eyes followed her wherever she went. Later, he learned that Valentina wasn’t just beautiful. She was brilliant too.
Her essays had appeared in several well–known publications. Her writing was elegant and warm, filled with genuine love for life.
He managed to get copies of all her published work and read every single piece. Something about her words stirred something deep inside him. He started finding excuses to be around
her.
He attended every theater troupe performance, always sitting in the front row with his eyes glued to her on stage. When he heard she loved to read, he had friends bring back the latest literary collections from other cities, then casually offered them to her.
She had a sensitive stomach, so he made sure hot milk was delivered to her office every single day without fail. Even when he was away on missions, he’d order the mess hall to keep up the
Chapter 12
routine.
The most ridiculous thing he ever did was that winter. Valentina had mentioned in passing that she’d love to have a hand–knitted scarf.
Here he was, a soldier who handled weapons for a living, spending a whole month learning to knit from the base wives. His fingers were constantly pricked and bloodied from the knitting needles, but he finally managed to produce something that looked halfway decent.
The day he gave it to her, her eyes went wide with surprise as she ran her fingers over the uneven stitches. When she looked up at him, her eyes were bright with tears. “You made this yourself?”
His ears burned red, but he tried to play it cool. “Yeah, first time. It’s pretty ugly.”
She buried her face in the scarf and whispered, “I love it.”
At that moment, Daniel felt like he would have knitted her a hundred scarves if she’d asked.
The memories hit him like a tidal wave, and his hands trembled as he clutched the scarf. He had loved Valentina so desperately.
Loved her enough to do countless little things just to see her smile. Loved her enough to save
up
three months‘ pay for a hair clip she’d glanced at twice in a store window.
Loved her enough to carry her letters into combat zones like they were good luck charms.
But then what happened? How had he treated her after all that?
For a lie wrapped in fake concern, he’d abandoned her to save Camille. For some twisted sense of duty, he’d forced her to watch him share a bed with another woman night after night.
Even after the divorce, he’d been stupid enough to think she was just having a tantrum. That eventually she’d come crawling back.
“What the hell was I thinking?” Daniel buried his face in his hands, a broken sound escaping his throat.
But the woman he’d wronged so deeply would never be there again to comfort him with her gentle patience.
Chapter 13
