He Chose His Comrade’s Widow Over Our Child’s Birthday Chapter 07
When Vivian noticed Julian hadn’t said a word, she assumed he was still blaming himself for the
fire.
She set the takeout container on the coffee table and walked over to him, leaning softly against his
shoulder on the couch.
“Julian, stop torturing yourself,” she whispered. “Mia survived, didn’t she? And you saved Leo. Caleb would’ve been grateful to you.”
As she spoke, she reached for his hand.
“Get the hell away from me!”
Julian shot to his feet and shoved her away hard enough that she crashed onto the container flipped over, sending chicken noodle soup spilling across the floor.
rug. The
“Julian…” Vivian stared at him in shock, eyes instantly reddening. “Why would you push me?”
He ignored her completely.
Every time he heard her voice now, all he could see was Mia’s face disappearing behind flames as she closed her eyes in despair.
He grabbed his keys and stormed out of the house.
The world around him felt like it had collapsed, and he desperately needed air before he suffocated under the weight of it.
He sat in his truck for a long time, gripping the steering wheel in silence, unable to figure out what
to do next.
Eventually Vivian left too, but he barely noticed as he remained parked in the darkness.
Then he thought of one place.
One person.
Maybe the only place left where he could still breathe.
He drove across town to the apartment he had rented for Vivian and Leo with his own paycheck.
He wanted to look at Caleb’s memorial photo. Maybe seeing the face of his fallen teammate would
ease the guilt clawing at his chest.
He didn’t bother knocking. He already knew the passcode.
But as he approached the door, he realized it hadn’t fully latched shut. Voices drifted from inside.
A man’s voice.
Laughing.
Julian froze.
Slowly, he looked through the narrow crack in the doorway.
Vivian was sitting on the couch beside a rough-looking guy covered in tattoos. Bundles of cash stacked across the coffee table. Julian immediately recognized the money. It was his quarterly bonus from last week, along with the living expenses he’d given her.
Vivian was feeding bills through a money counter.
The
guy grabbed her waist with a smirk. “So when’s that idiot fire captain finally gonna marry you? Your kid faking asthma every other week is getting exhausting.”
Julian’s breathing stopped.
Vivian let out a cold laugh and stuffed the cash into her purse.
“Marriage?” she scoffed. “His wife ran off, and he’s drowning in guilt right now. If I pressure him too hard, it’ll backfire. As long as he still feels guilty about Caleb, all I have to do is cry a little and he’ll stay my personal ATM forever.”
The man snorted. “You’re ruthless. That mall fire was huge, and you still made him save your son first. Heard his real daughter lost her voice in the fire?”
Vivian rolled her eyes, venom filling her voice.
“That little brat should’ve died in there. She got lucky. And her mother always acted so damn superior around me.”
She laughed again.
“Julian Thorne is such a pathetic idiot. All I had to do was say Leo was scared, and he abandoned his own daughter without hesitation. Men like him deserve to die alone.”
Every word shredded what little dignity Julian still had left.
Leo’s asthma had been fake.
Vivian’s helpless act had all been a setup.
And the heroism Julian had once been proud of was nothing more than stupidity to everyone else.
He stood outside the apartment trembling violently.
Images slammed into his mind one after another.
The day he removed Mia’s piano from the house because Vivian said Leo needed more room.
The moment he gave away Mia’s first-place art competition spot because Leo “needed confidence.”
The dead look in Mia’s eyes as he walked away from her inside the burning mall.
His knees nearly gave out.
Years ago, he would’ve kicked the door open and beaten both of them half to death.
But this time, he didn’t.
Instead, he turned around calmly and walked away.
Back inside his truck, he pulled out his phone and made a call.
“Hello. I’d like to file an official report. I have evidence of medical fraud and long-term financial extortion.”
That same night, Julian returned to his office at the fire department.
He opened his laptop and spent hours organizing every transfer record, every text message, and every fake medical reimbursement form Vivian had ever sent him over the past three years.
With his own hands, he destroyed Vivian’s future.
And his own.
When he finally finished, Julian stood alone in the dark office.
Then he raised his hand and slapped himself across the face.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Ten brutal slaps in total.
Blood split open at the corner of his mouth. His face swelled red instantly.
But he felt absolutely nothing.