Chapter 94 This Fool

Chapter 94 This Fool

Isabella's POV

If Maurice knew this shirt belonged to Terrence, that his own brother had taken it off and draped it over me on that stormy night, everything would completely spiral out of control.

"It's just a men's shirt I randomly bought at a thrift store. The fit is oversized, so I wear it as a nightgown—it's really comfortable."

"I thought it was one of my unwashed jackets." He irritably ran his fingers through his messy hair. "Car keys are on the table. I'm leaving. See you tonight."

The bedroom door slammed shut with a dull thud.

My whole body went weak as I collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily.

He believed me.

Maurice was too oblivious to even recognize his own brother's clothes.

A week passed in the blink of an eye.

It had been exactly seven days since Terrence moved out of the apartment.

During those seven days, he never came back. Not a single phone call. Not even a brief text message.

Ten in the morning, bright sunshine.

I pushed open the door of the small coffee shop next to the music studio. The brass bell on the door chimed crisply.

"One blueberry scone and a vanilla latte, please."

After paying, I carried my tray, looking for a corner seat.

"Isabella!"

A familiar female voice called from a window seat on the right.

I turned to look. Anna was sitting there, wearing a beige trench coat, her long golden curls casually draped over her shoulders, a cup of black coffee in front of her.

"Anna!" I walked over, pleasantly surprised.

She stood up and gave me a warm hug.

Her niche perfume still smelled wonderful, but up close, I could see the heavy dark circles under her eyes. She looked completely exhausted.

Anna gently stirred the coffee in her cup, her gaze somewhat unfocused.

"How's Reveille's arm recovering? At the last dinner, he said he was still doing rehab," I asked.

At the mention of Reveille's name, Anna's stirring motion abruptly stopped.

She let out a soft sigh, the smile completely fading from her face.

"Not great." Anna's tone dropped. "His left hand muscles are already showing signs of atrophy. The doctor said there's still a small piece of shrapnel lodged in the bone gap, continuously pressing on the nerve. Next month, he needs a second surgery."

My heart lurched. I gasped.

"God, does he still have a chance to fully recover?"

"No one can say for sure." Anna forced a bitter smile. "But as long as he's alive, can sit here safely, can live a normal life, I'm already incredibly grateful."

She looked up at me, her expression complex and unreadable.

"Isabella, you probably don't know what they actually went through during that mission back then."

I froze instantly.

"Terrence never told me the details," I answered honestly. "He only said he was forced to take leave and rest because of chronic insomnia and trauma."

Anna let out a cold laugh, though her eyes were quietly turning red.

"Insomnia and stress reactions? Military psychologists always downplay severe trauma."

Anna leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice.

"Fourteen months ago, during a nighttime raid in the Kanduz region, there was a fatal intelligence error. Everyone thought it was just an abandoned outpost, but it was actually an ambush with over two hundred fully armed militants."

My breathing stopped instantly.

"Their entire team was completely surrounded." Anna's voice trembled slightly. "No backup, no escape route. A thirteen-man squad held out for an entire night in ruins filled with explosives and machine gun fire."

The cheerful background music of the coffee shop played on, but I felt ice-cold, the chill seeping into my bones.

"In the end, only four survived."

Anna stared directly into my eyes.

"Seth permanently lost function in one hand and half his hearing. The squad's sniper, Mosquito, was hit directly by a rocket. Nothing left of him."

Tears fell without warning, dropping onto the table.

A thirteen-man squad, only four survivors.

"Terrence was the squad leader. He personally gathered the remains of nine fallen teammates, one by one, into body bags. Then, with the severely wounded Seth, he fought his way through the siege and survived."

I covered my mouth as images of Terrence flooded my mind.

I remembered him sitting alone in the dark living room late at night, cigarette between his fingers, staring blankly at the ceiling.

I remembered how extremely sensitive he was to the slightest sounds, his entire body instantly tensing at any movement.

I remembered him holding me tight at night, breathing heavily, like a wounded beast trapped in pain with no way out.

He had truly experienced hell.

Every night when he closed his eyes, he saw images of his teammates dying.

This was why he was so vigilant, perpetually cold and distant, with cutting words.

He carried the weight of nine lives alone. He couldn't have peaceful sleep, couldn't accept an ordinary, stable life.

"That's the root of his personality change. He blames himself for everything, truly believes he doesn't deserve ordinary happiness."

"But..." My throat tightened, my voice hoarse. "He moved out a week ago. We haven't had any contact."

Anna looked at me quietly, saying nothing.

"The night after the last dinner, he got really angry in the car. I asked him if what Reveille said was true. He just said it was complicated. I figured he must have someone he likes."

I bit my lower lip as tears fell again.

"He's deliberately avoiding me now because he doesn't want me to misunderstand, and doesn't want that woman to misunderstand either. He has his own life, and I'm just Maurice's girlfriend. I don't even have the right to care about him."

Anna listened quietly to everything I said.

The next second, she knocked her coffee cup heavily on the table with a dull thud.

"Isabella, you're usually so perceptive. How can you be so dense about this?"

I froze instantly.

"What do you mean?"

"Seth can't keep secrets, but every word he says when he's drunk is the truth."

"There's never been another woman in Terrence's heart."

My mind went completely blank.

"But he..." I started to protest in confusion.

Anna cut me off. "During his service, he never paid extra attention to anyone. After he left the military, he lived alone in that old, shabby apartment. He never had the chance to meet other women."

She reached out and gripped my hand tightly.

"Isabella, wake up. See the whole truth."

She looked at me deeply, then stood up and grabbed her bag.

"I need to get to the clinic. Think it over carefully."

The coffee shop door opened, the brass bell chiming again.

I sat alone at the table, Anna's words echoing repeatedly in my mind.

There's never been another woman.

Not in the past, not now.

If there was never anyone else in his heart, if all his obsession and attachment never belonged to someone else...

Then in that dim parking lot, when he pinned me against the hood of the Mercedes G-Class, all that loss of control and restraint—who was it really for?