Third Person's POV

Halle Dolton had chased after Terence Bacchus for three years, only to end up tying a love knot for him and someone else.

The first time they met, the winds were fierce in Tanzania. He saved her from a poacher’s gun. She treated his gunshot wound.

“Don’t be scared, I’m the leader of Wildlife Conservation Team A,” he said.

“Don’t worry, I’m Halle Dolton, a doctor sent from Washington to aid Tanzania,” she replied.

Those were the first words they exchanged.

But the dream of love Halle had built was shattered by Terence himself.

Tired of chasing someone who didn’t care, she decided to let go. Yet after she left Tanzania, abandoning everything he had given her, he became the one unwilling to let go.

“It turns out the one who couldn’t live without the other… was me,” Terence murmured.

——

“Captain Howell, I want to apply for a transfer back to Washington,” Halle said.

The head leader, Cedric Howell, looked surprised. “Halle, have you talked to Captain Bacchus about this? You’re part of Team A, and he’s your direct supervisor. You’ll need his approval to leave.”

Would Terence disagree? Halle wasn’t so sure.

She turned her gaze to Terence, who lay unconscious in the hallway, hooked up to a blood transfusion. Seeing his sorry state, her expression turned solemn.

Half an hour earlier, Halle had faced the most critical situation of her time in Tanzania. Terence had just returned from a mission chasing poachers in the wilderness at an altitude of over 4,600 meters. He had been shot multiple times, with deep wounds across his shoulder and back, bleeding profusely. Now, he was unconscious.

However, aside from him, another person was carried back, too—Darlene Benson, the deputy leader of Zone A. She had been shot in the leg, her face pale from blood loss, and she was trembling from shock.

When Terence had regained consciousness and saw the latter, his trembling hand immediately grabbed Halle’s arm, leaving streaks of blood on her white coat.

“Take my blood for her,” he muttered weakly.

He was insane. His injuries were far worse than Darlene’s. If they drew blood from him now, he might not survive.

On that note, Halle firmly refused, “We can't do that.”

Unwilling to give up, Terence had turned to the medical staff nearby to insist on his request. As Halle did, they also frowned at him and tried to dissuade him, but he wouldn’t listen.

“Halle, this isn’t the time for stubbornness or jealousy. If something happens to Darlene, you’ll have to take responsibility for it,” Terence snapped.

His usually warm eyes were now cold and piercing as he glared at her, his tone sharp and unyielding. He was furious—for Darlene.

Just then, Darlene intervened and tugged lightly on Terence’s arm, signaling him to calm down. She had always been his anchor; no matter the situation, a simple gesture from her could soften him.

“Halle, don’t mind him,” Darlene said gently. “He’s just being reckless again. I’m sorry for the trouble he’s causing.”

Halle had shifted her gaze from Terence to Darlene, forcing a small, strained smile. “It’s fine. I’ve already arranged for blood to be sent from the supply station. It’ll arrive soon.”

Still, Terence wasn’t satisfied. His frustration had flared as he covered Darlene’s icy hand with his own.

“That’s not good enough. Her hands are freezing—it’s a sign of severe blood loss.” As Terence had said that, he had swiftly grabbed the syringe from Halle’s hand and drew his own blood, ignoring her protests.

However, as the needle was still in his arm, his body had given out. Yet before losing consciousness completely, he mumbled, “We’re both type A. She can use my blood.” After that, he collapsed onto the floor, unconscious, but his hand never let go of Halle’s arm.

For the first time, the calm and composed Terence revealed a fragile side, his face etched with worry and vulnerability.

They were a perfect match—in dreams, in their hometowns, and even in blood type.

With that thought in mind, Halle’s fists clenched tightly, her pale knuckles and the crescent-shaped indentations on her palms betraying her inner turmoil.

Third Person's POV

Halle pulled her gaze away from Terence and gave a faint laugh. “He agreed. In fact, he can’t wait for me to leave. Just sign off on the transfer, Captain Howell.”

Cedric let out a sigh and shook his head. “Halle, Terence’s temper is just like that. He doesn’t mean it personally. But if you leave, will you ever come back? And… what about him? Are you really going to leave him behind?”

Halle stayed silent.

Three years had already passed. Her mind wandered back to the day she first met Terence. It was a bitterly cold May in the eastern region, with the raindrops directly hitting the plains. On her very first day of the job providing medical support in Tanzania—a short-barreled gun was pressed to her head. Beside her was another man holding a gun as well.

At first, she thought they were working together—both poachers. But then the man fired his weapon, and blood sprayed into the air. Before she could even get a hold of everything happening around her, she was pulled into his arms for protection.

“Don’t be scared. I’m the leader of Wildlife Conservation Team A,” he said.

Through the fierce rain and wind, with a bullet lodged in his shoulder, Terence carried her—sprained ankle and all—back to the camp.

That was the first time Halle performed a rescue operation. When she reached for the wound on his shoulder, he suddenly stopped her.

“Don’t worry. I’m Halle Dolton, a doctor from Washington sent to aid Tanzania,” she reassured him.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want him anymore; it was that he had never wanted her in the first place.

For three years, she had openly loved him, but he acted like he didn’t notice. Her every effort, every step closer, had been met with rejection. Whenever she moved forward, he always retreated.

Reluctantly, Captain Howell signed off on her transfer request.

Just two weeks—she had only two weeks left before she would leave this place. A place that had caused her so much pain. A place where she would finally leave Terence behind.

“Halle!”

She had just stepped out of Captain Howell’s office when a familiar, cheerful voice called her name. Turning around, she saw Darlene approaching. With a warm smile, Darlene draped an arm over Halle’s shoulder.

“Don’t take what happened this morning to heart,” Darlene said lightly. “Terence has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. He wasn’t really mad at you. He just…” Darlene trailed off.

'Just what?' Halle thought. 'Just care too much about your injury?' she bitterly continued inwardly.

Realizing she might have said too much, Darlene gave Halle’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t dwell on it. Let’s go enjoy the scenery and clear our heads. Everything will work out.”

The eastern landscape was breathtaking, but the weather changed quickly. By afternoon, the clear skies had given way to falling snow.

The cold wind swept through, and Darlene, still recovering from her gunshot wound, began to look pale and unsteady. Seeing that, Halle quickly reached out to help her walk back to the camp.

However, just as she turned, she saw Terence striding toward them, his face dark with anger. Before she could ask about his injuries, he pushed her aside, making her stumble a few steps.

He grabbed Darlene by the arm, steadying her, and then cast a cold glance at Halle. His tone was distant, as usual, as he snapped, “You call yourself a doctor? Don’t you know someone recovering from a gunshot wound shouldn’t be exposed to cold?”

Darlene frowned at his accusation and was about to speak, but Terence cut her off and guided her back toward the camp.

Meanwhile, Halle stood frozen, her chest tightening painfully as she struggled to catch her breath. The biting cold wind stung her face, and her nose turned red from the cold. Blinking away the tears in her eyes, she sniffled hard and turned to follow them back.

By the time they returned, the sun had already dipped behind the mountains, painting the ground a golden hue.

Inside the cabin, someone paced near the table, their shadow blurred in the dim light. Even without seeing his face, Halle knew it was Terence.

With her coat somehow wet with the mist of the cold air outside, she stepped in and met Terence’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Ridiculous. Wandering around in the snow all afternoon,” he muttered, his tone exasperated before he turned and headed upstairs.

Left alone, Halle noticed the steaming cup of coffee on the wooden table. She sat down and drank it slowly until warmth returned to her body.

Doing so, memories from the past surfaced unbidden, filling her heart with a dull ache.

Third Person's POV

Three years ago, she had stood in this very place. Back then, everything about Tanzania had been new and fascinating to her. She would often wander through the mountains and lose herself in the scenery.

But the weather in the region was unpredictable, and heavy rain quickly turned the world into swamp, obscuring landmarks and directions.

One day, she had walked alone through the mountain for hours, unable to find her way back to camp. It wasn’t until midnight that Terence, with a flashlight in hand, found her drenched in the valley.

After that incident, Terence insisted she learn navigation skills, but no matter how hard she tried, the techniques were too complicated for her to grasp.

Finally, in exasperation, Terence made her a custom compass. It wasn’t just a compass—it had a built-in tracker and an alarm. “Whenever you’re lost, just press the red button, and I’ll come find you,” he’d said.

Halle set down the empty cup in her hand and moved closer to the fire, letting the warmth seep into her. Before she realized it, she had dozed off at the wooden table, her hand still clutching the compass that hung around her neck.

Soon, the sound of cheering woke her. She stirred groggily and noticed a coat had been draped over her shoulders. But as she sat up, it slipped to the floor. So, she picked it up and then left it on the chair.

Stepping outside, she saw fireworks lit up the night sky, drawing bursts of excitement from the crowd gathered there.

Not long after, Darlene spotted her and immediately pulled her into the celebration. “Come on, have some barley wine and enjoy the fireworks with us!” she invited, her voice filled with enthusiasm.

“It’s a party for Terence,” Darlene explained, pouring her a drink. “This mission couldn’t have succeeded without him.”

The haze of confusion in Halle’s mind cleared instantly. She then felt Terence’s gaze from across the crowd and turned to meet his eyes.

But just as their gazes locked, Terence raised his cup, looked away, and downed his drink. He always avoided her like this. He’d been like that for years.

She thought back to the man who once taught her how to navigate by the stars, took her to see the beauty of the mountains, and crafted a one-of-a-kind compass just for her.

Two years ago, on her last day of service in Tanzania, she had hoped things between them might change.

They’d stood together beneath a sprawling sky full of stars. In the distance, the mountains glittered in the moonlight, and the faint sound of grazing sheep filled the air. Terence had been explaining the path of that night’s meteor shower when she turned to him.

“Terence,” she’d said softly, “I’m not leaving.”

She remembered clearly how the light in his eyes dimmed.

“Why would you stay here?” he replied firmly. “This is no place for a young woman. Go back while you can.”

But she saw through his words and reached for his hand. “I want to stay with you. I want us to be together.”

But to her surprise, he shook her hand off and turned away, leaving her with nothing but his back.

“I’m not gonna be with you. Don’t even think about it,” he said without a hint of hesitation.

From that moment on, it was as if a wall had risen between them.

He became a door she could never open, a hand that always slipped from hers, a conversation that was cut short before it could begin. He avoided her gaze like it was a burden he didn’t want to carry.

Just then, a sudden noise snapped her back to the present, and only then did he feel a lightness around her neck. She instinctively reached for her compass—only to find it missing.

Her eyes darted down, and there it was, lying at her feet. But she saw the needle had stopped moving. She knelt quickly to pick it up, but a dancer in the crowd accidentally stepped on her hand, grinding sand into her scraped skin. The sting quickly shot up her arm.

Before she could react, a large hand reached down and picked up the compass.

Startled, she looked up to see Terence standing right in front of her, his face closer than she expected.

Suddenly, a wave of frustration surged through her chest. Maybe it was anger at his recklessness the day before, or the way he had unfairly scolded her earlier that morning. Maybe it was the way he had just avoided her gaze at the celebration—or maybe it was the barley wine amplifying her buried grievances.

Without thinking, she snatched the compass out of his hand.