After getting married, I followed my wife to the desert to help build up a remote research base.

After months of severe drought, I applied for 17 ounces of water just to wash my hair.

But as station chief, June Sheffield rejected me without hesitation. "The water supply has to go toward cultivating the samples first. You need to learn how to tough it out."

Then the next moment, I came across a new post the intern had uploaded on social media.

'Wanted to try an outdoor bath, and Ms. Sheffield approved a whole ton of water without even blinking! She even set up the bath tent herself. I'm so happy.'

Furious, I went straight to confront June Sheffield.

Usually cold and distant, she softened her tone for once. "Conditions here are harsh. If Morgan can't handle it and decides to leave, the base will end up even more short-staffed. You're one of the core staff members. Once the project pays out, your share alone will be at least four million. An intern like him doesn't get that kind of treatment."

In the end, I swallowed my anger.

That was, until the first-quarter project wrapped up.

When there was still no movement in my account, I nervously contacted headquarters.

The moment I gave my identity, the person on the other end sounded stunned. "You're just an intern. What project bonus are you talking about? And the head of the research department has always been Morgan Wilder."

I stared at June's signature on the personnel registration list and suddenly understood everything.

Without another word, I packed my bags and booked a flight home.

Life in the desert was bitterly cold and unforgiving.

This time, I was not staying.

Congratulations, You're About to Be a Father

The dormitory's heating suddenly went out at one in the morning. Shivering beneath the blankets, I called June.

On the other end, she sounded sleepy, yawning between words. "The power station said the lines were damaged and they're still repairing them. It won't be fixed until tomorrow morning. If you're cold, fill up a few more hot water bottles. There's nothing I can do about emergencies like this."

Before I could say another word, the line disconnected, leaving behind nothing but the hollow beeping tone.

The cold grew sharper and sharper, carving straight into my bones. Gritting my teeth, I pulled the blanket tighter around myself.

Suddenly, my phone lit up with a notification.

I turned my head slightly and saw that Morgan had just updated his social media. In the photo, he wore nothing but a thin short-sleeved shirt with a popsicle hanging from his mouth.

'So lucky Ms. Sheffield brought me a generator, or I would have frozen tonight too.'

I stared at the picture for a long time.

I thought I would feel angry, or aggrieved, or that my chest would ache the way it always had before.

But I did not.

I only felt tired. So tired I could barely keep my eyes open.

…

The next morning, the alarm rang.

I collapsed weakly on the bed, unable to even straighten my back. My entire body felt like it had been run over, every inch of me aching down to the bone.

Still, I forced myself to the clinic.

The nurse frowned the moment she checked my temperature. "You're running a 104 fever. Medicine alone won't cut it. You need a fever shot."

Looking at the little remaining balance on my work card, I let out a bitter laugh and shook my head.

Supplies at the base had always been scarce. To keep distribution fair, every staff member received monthly allowances based on rank. As a frontline technician, I was originally supposed to receive 12 thousand credits each month.

But half a year ago, Morgan arrived at the base. As an intern, his allowance was only 3,000. To "help the newcomer settle in," June swapped our allowances.

"Let Morgan adjust for a few months first. I'll switch them back later. If you don't have enough, just use my card."

There was not much I could say, so I agreed.

Even then, I never once thought about touching June's card.

Life at the base was not like life outside. Airlifting supplies in cost a fortune. Every bit used meant one bit less remaining.

And as station chief, June had expenses everywhere. Her allowance looked high on paper, but in reality, it could not handle much waste.

So I kept tightening my belt and endured it.

No matter how difficult things got, I always gritted my teeth and pushed through. But that day, my fever was so bad my vision blurred and my head spun. After hesitating again and again, I finally gave the nurse June's card number.

The nurse lowered her head and worked at the computer for a while. Then suddenly, she looked up at me and covered her mouth with a laugh. "Congratulations, Ian. You're about to be a father."

My mind went blank. "What did you just say?"

Before I could react, she turned the computer screen toward me and pointed at the purchase records. "Ms. Sheffield bought a lot of prenatal calcium supplements this month, imported folic acid, and nutritional products too. If she's buying all this, she must be pregnant. Don't tell me she never told you about such huge news?"

A chill ran through me.

All these years, June and I had never planned for a child. We hadn't even slept together in months, so how could she possibly be pregnant?

He's Not Going Anywhere

The answer was obvious. It pierced into me like a needle buried deep in flesh.

The moment I returned to the dorm and shut the door, my body finally hit its limit. My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed onto the bed without even the strength to move.

I did not know how long I slept, but somewhere in my haze, I vaguely heard someone speaking.

When I forced my eyes open, I realized June was sitting beside the bed at some point, staring at me with concern written all over her face.

"Ian, people from your department said you never showed up to work today. I was worried something had happened to you, so I rushed back right after the meeting ended."

She paused and reached out to touch my forehead. "Are you feeling any better now? Does anything still hurt?"

I instinctively turned my head away.

June frowned slightly at the reaction, but her voice softened even more. "Ian, Morgan is my subordinate. It's only natural for me to take extra care of him. I know you've felt wronged lately, but at least give me a chance to make it up to you, okay?"

She looked at me gently. "What do you want? Just say it. I'll give you anything."

I stared at the unfamiliar tenderness in her eyes for a long moment before finally speaking in a quiet voice. "I want a divorce."

She froze, almost seeming to think she had misheard me. "Ian, did the fever mess with your head? What nonsense are you talking about?"

I shook my head and repeated myself. "I said I want a divorce. Can you give me that?"

The smile on her face vanished instantly. She shot to her feet, her voice turning sharp.

"Ian Crowe, what the hell is wrong with you? You're a grown man—you're seriously jealous of some younger guy? You want a divorce over something this insignificant? Since when did you become this unreasonable?"

Before I could say another word, she stormed out and slammed the door behind her.

Leaning against the headboard, I let out a long sigh.

Clearly, she still did not understand.

I wasn't asking for permission. It wasn't a request—it was the ultimatum.

Once the noise outside faded, I picked up my phone and glanced at the screen. A new text message had just come in. My plane ticket had been successfully booked.

Departure time: tomorrow afternoon.

There were still more than ten hours left before the flight, but the airport was at least a four-hour drive from the base. Ignoring my exhausted body, I quickly grabbed my suitcase and headed out.

After all, the base shuttle was the only transportation out of this place.

Luckily, I caught the final bus of the day.

After boarding, I casually pulled out my work card and tapped it against the scanner.

The machine immediately flashed an alert. 'Invalid card. Please scan again.'

My heart skipped.

I hurriedly tried a second time.

Still invalid.

The driver shot me an impatient look. "Are you leaving or not? If your card doesn't work, get off already. Stop holding everyone else up."

Hearing the passengers starting to complain behind me, I had no choice but to drag my suitcase back off the bus.

I pulled out my phone and logged into the work card system, and that was when I realized my card had been frozen half an hour ago.

I did not even need to guess who had done it. Other than June, the station chief, who else had that kind of authority?

If I wanted to leave this place, the only option was to get her to unfreeze it.

When I arrived outside June's office, the door was slightly ajar.

"Morgan, my body's not in good condition right now. The doctor said I need to be careful during the first three months…"

"I know. I just want to hold you. I'm not doing anything else."

A moment later, Morgan's voice drifted out again.

"June… Ian was so angry at you today. What if he really divorces you? What are you going to do then?"

"Relax. I already froze his card. He's not going anywhere." June sounded completely unconcerned. "I'll go comfort him in a few days. I'll say a few nice things, and he'll calm down. Isn't that how it always goes?"

Morgan lowered his voice, still unwilling to let it go. "But what if… What if he's really determined to leave this time?"

June let out a laugh as if she had just heard the world's biggest joke. "Even if he leaves, where's he supposed to go? His parents died in a car accident two years ago. Go home? Besides this place, he doesn't have a home anymore."

My mind exploded with a loud buzz. For a moment, I thought my heart would burst apart inside my chest.

Before I could even recover from the shock, I heard Morgan's voice.

The Woman I Loved With My Entire Soul

Inside the office, Morgan suddenly muttered, "June, did you deliberately hide it from Ian because you're afraid Ian will be heartbroken after finding out?"

June paused briefly.

"Of course not. It just happened to coincide with the base's quarterly inspection period back then. Ian is one of the technical department's core staff.

"If I'd let him go home for the funeral, the round trip would've taken at least half a month. Not only would it delay the project, but once he came back, I'd still have to comfort him. Too much trouble."

At that moment, I nearly broke apart.

June had hidden my parents' deaths from me. She had even cruelly stolen away my final chance to see them one last time.

And it had not been because she was afraid I would be devastated. She simply didn't want me leaving and affecting the project schedule at the base.

Back then, I had turned down a million-dollar annual salary offer. Ignoring my parents' objections, I insisted on following her to the desert.

We fought so badly over it that I completely fell out with my family.

During my first year away from home, my mother sent me countless messages.

'Ian, is it cold over there? The temperature dropped recently, so make sure you bundle up.'

'Ian, are you coming home for New Year's? I made all your favorite dishes. Don't stay angry at your father and me anymore.'

'Your dad never says it out loud, but he misses you too.'

I saw every single message, but I never replied.

At the time, I was too stubborn, too full of pride. I kept thinking that if I didn't go home, then so be it. After all, wherever June was, that was home to me.

Later, the messages became fewer and fewer. And by the time I finally wanted to contact my parents and took the initiative to call them, both their numbers had already been disconnected.

I thought it was because I had ignored them for too long. I thought my parents were truly angry and no longer wanted to acknowledge me as their son.

For a long time after that, I stayed depressed, always hiding somewhere alone to wipe away my tears in secret.

When June found out, she pulled me into her arms and comforted me gently. "Honey, don't be sad. Things are getting better for us now.

"Once work calms down, I'll go back with you so you can apologize properly to your parents. Blood's thicker than water, after all. You're their son. They'll definitely forgive you."

Back then, I leaned against her shoulder, feeling warm and guilty all at once. I thought that once this busy period passed, I would go home and make up for everything I owed my parents.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine they were already gone. Even less could I have imagined that the woman I had loved with my entire soul had never deserved to be called human.

My trembling hand reached for the office door handle. But at the very last second, all my strength drained away.

Now that I already knew every answer, what was left to ask? Besides, the people inside were faces I never wanted to see again for the rest of my life.

Ultimately, I let go of the handle, dragged my suitcase behind me, and turned to leave the office building.

After reaching downstairs, I was still worrying about missing the last bus when someone suddenly called out to me from behind.

I turned around—it was Olivia, the nurse from the medical station.

Seeing the suitcase in my hand, she looked surprised. "Ian, where are you going?"

My voice came out hoarse. "Oh… I'm planning to take a long vacation. I booked a flight and wanted to get away for a while."

Hearing that, Olivia glanced toward the distant bus stop and pursed her lips. "The last bus had already left. Can you still make your flight like this?"

I sighed helplessly. "Probably not. I'll have to figure out how to reschedule the ticket."

Olivia immediately stepped forward and patted my shoulder. "My boyfriend happens to be heading into town tonight. He should still be at the parking lot right now. Want me to ask him to give you a ride on the way?"

Naturally, I was not about to refuse that kind of luck.

Ten minutes later, a sedan stopped in front of me, and Olivia's boyfriend leaned out the driver's window. "Hop in, Mr. Crowe! If we leave now, you'll still make it to the airport in time."

Very soon, I left the base behind in their car.

As I looked at the place where I had spent the last five years, I realized there was not even the slightest trace of attachment left in my heart anymore.

The wind outside the window still blew relentlessly across the desert. But somehow, against my face, it no longer felt so cold.

Leaning back against the seat, I watched the lights of the base grow farther and farther away in the rearview mirror. The corners of my lips slowly curled upward.

'June, for the rest of our lives, let's never see each other again.'