Roman Armstrong glared at me, his eyes burning with raw hostility. In the past, whenever we had a fight, I would cling to him, forcing him to write out formal apologies and sign them just to soothe my own anxiety. Now, he didn't even bother to glance at the documents in his hand before scrawling his signature.

He didn't hesitate. He hauled Sabrina Cole into his arms and bolted toward the field hospital. As he turned, I saw it—Sabrina, resting her head against his shoulder, catching my gaze and offering a smug, victorious smirk.

The following day, my transfer request to the International Military News Bureau was officially approved. But within the same hour, the base’s internal social feed imploded.

BREAKING: Lead Reporter Genevieve Hunter sabotages the relationship of Roman Armstrong and Sabrina Cole; victim hospitalized after being shoved from a second-story balcony!

The post was bolstered by two photos. The first was a shot of me walking toward the staff quarters late at night. The second was Roman carrying Sabrina, following closely behind.

The comment section was a feeding frenzy.

"Is this real? I thought Genevieve was engaged. Why would she tear apart someone else's relationship?"

"Right? Genevieve never seemed like the type to pull something like this."

Then, one comment skyrocketed to the top of the feed.

"Genevieve doesn't even have a fiancé; she’s been making it all up! She’s been harboring a secret crush on Major Armstrong for years. Once Roman went public with Sabrina, Genevieve snapped. She’s jealous. She snuck into the Major's home and shoved Sabrina right off the second floor! I have proof—Genevieve has been a fanatical stalker of the Major’s since he arrived at this base!"

When Roman first arrived at the military district, nobody knew who he was. I had visited him in secret, supporting him from the shadows. Those moments were strictly private, known only to the two of us.

But now, the "evidence" this user had posted felt like a physical blow to my chest.

My hands trembled as I dialed Roman’s number. It took five rings before he finally picked up.

"Roman, was this you?"

Those photos—if they hadn’t come from Roman, I couldn't imagine who else would have access to them.

There was a deafening silence on the other end of the line. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, clipped, and devoid of warmth.

"Genevieve, you were the one who made the mistake."

"The things you said at the post-deployment gala made our brothers-in-arms believe that Sabrina was a home-wrecker. It destroyed her reputation and invited ridicule. We went public not just because of the upcoming joint military exercises, but because I needed to salvage her name—to clean up the mess you made. I thought you would show some remorse. Instead, you pushed her."

Roman’s logic was so warped it made my skin crawl. I let out a sharp, jagged laugh, the sound catching in my throat as tears stung my eyes.

"She isn't a home-wrecker? What is she, then? The innocent, fragile little flower of the regiment?"

"Genevieve, you are being completely irrational!" Roman roared, cutting me off.

"It’s done. I don’t want this drama to escalate any further. You are going to apologize to Sabrina. I’ll make sure she tells everyone she’s willing to forgive you. We can move past this."

I tilted my head back, forcing my eyes dry so the tears wouldn't fall.

"Roman," I said, my voice steady for the first time in months. "There is no 'moving past this.' Starting today, I’m leaving. Consider it my final gift to you and your little protégée."