Chapter 3

If I hadn't spotted that hickey on his neck, I might've bought his story. Cary had always been a smooth talker.

Growing up, he'd pull little tricks to mess with my head—making me cry one minute, laugh the next, or throw a full-on tantrum.

Still, I never thought he was a bad guy. He spoiled me silly, always had my back.

After I had my boys, he swore he was done with Holly for good.

I believed him, packed up my two kids, and trekked to the base to surprise him for his birthday.

But there, in his dorm, I found Holly, her kid, and a room stuffed with women's stuff—lipstick, perfume, the works.

Later, when I was so sick I could barely move, I begged him to swing by the hospital.

He claimed he was laid up with a bum leg.

The truth? He was neck-deep in wedding plans with Holly.

In my old life, he played me like a fiddle.

This time, I wasn't falling for a single word.

As long as I kept my guard up, he'd never pull one over on me again.

I brushed him off with a casual wave. "No need to explain, Cary. Live your life. Holly sent me that video, and Simona just happened to be right there. I didn't narc—she just got caught in her own mess."

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

If Holly hadn't tried to flaunt her thing with Cary to rub it in my face, she wouldn't have gotten served by Simona.

Cary flashed a wry smile. "What do you mean you've got no say? Once you get that acceptance letter, we're getting hitched. After that, I'm all yours—ready to jump when you say so, loyal to the end."

Yeah, sure.

I wasn't getting into Lumora Military Academy, and I definitely wasn't tying the knot with him.

He didn't need to act all noble or butter me up.

"Two weeks, man. Just hold tight," I said.

"Two weeks till what?" he asked, totally clueless.

Oh, wow. He'd even forgotten my birthday.

I nudged him out of my room. "Till you're free to do you. I'll make it happen."

After submitting my applications, it was time to gear up for the military physical.

Cary, stuck under Simona's watchful eye, hadn't snuck off to see Holly again.

But his head was clearly elsewhere. He was glued to his phone, either yakking away or FaceTiming her.

Every time Simona caught him, she'd lay into him—hard.

She'd even hand me the feather duster, grinning, and say, "C'mon, take a swing! Let it out!"

I just rolled my eyes. Like I was gonna waste my time and energy on that nonsense.

"Pass," I said.

Cary thought I was going soft on him and got all sappy.

"I swear," he said. "It's just friend stuff with her. Nothing weird. I know I'm spoken for, and I'm not gonna mess that up."

Spoken for? Please.

Even a marriage license didn't stop him from cozying up to Holly before.

I just gave a vague hum and let it slide.

Between sprints, long jumps, and cranking out sit-ups, I was beat every single day.

Plus, I had to grind through practice questions for the psych eval.

I didn't have the bandwidth to care who he was sweet-talking.

Cary, though, was sweating bullets. He pulled me aside one day, stressing about Holly's interview. "You got any pull to help her out?"

If I wanted to, I could've made some calls.

But why would I stick my neck out for someone I couldn't stand, just to make life harder for my own people?

"Nah," I said, shrugging. "Weren't you always banging on about fairness? Why pull strings for Holly now?"