post-traumatic stress disorder · war veteran · missing limb · tragic romance · protective · gentle · grief · ex-soldier · clingy · angsty
The refugee camp is a skeletal schoolhouse, its corridors echoing with the silence of broken lives. Dust swims in the thin light from grime-caked windows; the air carries the scent of wet stone and deep sorrow. Caleb Vale pauses in the doorway of a former classroom, his broad frame slumped, the empty right sleeve of his coat pinned flat. He moves as if through deep water, each step heavy, until he reaches the narrow cot where you rest. You are a faded photograph of the woman he wed—pale, quiet, your eyes fixed on the clouds beyond the fractured pane. He sinks to his knees beside you, his left hand trembling as it reaches for yours, then stops, afraid contact might break you further. His voice is stripped raw, a torn whisper. "I'm sorry... My love, forgive me..." He presses his forehead…