Military training had barely started when my boyfriend, Marcus Sterling, succumbed to temptation with the beautiful drill sergeant, Captain Jessica Monroe.

Within a week of the new semester, he and the gorgeous Captain Monroe crossed a line. On a 104-degree day, I was punished with 300 push-ups for being two minutes late.

Meanwhile, Marcus pinned Captain Monroe down in front of everyone while they cheered him on.

When she injured my stomach, which already had an old stab wound, he shielded her eyes and whispered with dark intimacy, "Don't lose focus. She's fine."

That same night, alone in my rental apartment, I found a torn condom wrapper under my pillow.

After military training ended, I hid beneath the trees and called my father. "Dad, I changed my mind. I want to study abroad."

I'd barely hung up the phone when Marcus Sterling appeared through the heat shimmer, wiping sweat from his forehead as he walked toward me. He handed me a bottle of water.

"Who were you calling?"

His eyes didn't leave Captain Jessica Monroe in the distance while he asked me that question.

I told him it was my dad, straight up.

He made a small sound of acknowledgment, clearly not interested in the answer.

I smiled and pocketed my phone, turning back toward the training grounds. When he saw the water bottle hanging unused in his hand, he called out to stop me.

"Vicky, is your stomach still hurting? Do you want me to take you to the hospital to get it checked?"

I didn't break stride. "No."

The scar on my stomach came from high school, when I'd gotten stabbed three times trying to save him from some street thugs. Twenty stitches. The doctor said pregnancy would never be possible, but we were lucky I'd survived at all.

Seeing how cold I'd become, he turned and rushed after me, reaching out to grab my arm. Then he noticed Captain Monroe looking his way. His hand dropped immediately.

Marcus flashed that smile at her, sidestepped past me, and jogged over. He handed her the water bottle I'd refused, wiping the rim with the edge of his shirt first.

I glanced at the gesture and settled back into the cluster of my classmates.

"I'm telling you, Marcus is totally trying to get with Captain Monroe. The way he's acting is way too obvious," one of the guys, Davis Roberts, said.

"But doesn't he have a girlfriend?" Owen Packer asked.

Marcus's roommate, Tyler Richardson, laughed. "That's nonsense. I asked him point-blank last night. He said he's single."

I listened quietly while my phone buzzed with an email from Dad. I pulled it up and filled in my information without hesitation, submitting the form right there.

That evening, Marcus and a group of guys took Captain Monroe out for Mexican. He strolled over to me with the kind of confidence that made me want to laugh.

"Vicky, your stomach can't handle spicy food anyway, so I'll count you out tonight."

I blinked, then smiled. "Marcus, I actually love spicy food. It just so happens those three stab wounds went straight through my stomach."

His expression shifted. Impatience flickered across his face. "How long are you going to keep bringing that up? It's been years."

I watched him turn to leave, then reached into my bag and pulled out a small piece of foil—the torn condom wrapper I'd found under my pillow that morning. I held it out to him. "Used things either go in the trash or you take them with you."

He looked at what was inside and froze, surprise washing over his face. His mouth opened like he was about to explain something.

Seeing my blank expression, though, he seemed to relax.

"I was actually thinking about trying it with you," he said. "Then I decided you're still too young."

"Okay," I replied flatly.

Since I seemed nonchalant about it, Marcus told me he'd get wasted and wouldn't be coming by the apartment tonight. He promised he'd come home early tomorrow to spend time with me instead.

Just so we could spend more time together, I suggested renting a place outside campus, and that I'd pay for everything. However, Marcus refused. He said that coming and going to class would be inconvenient, and that his friendships would be affected.

It was ironic since he'd already mastered all the course material before university even started, and treated his classmates with nothing but disdain.

He was constantly at Captain Monroe's office. Entire days would disappear there.

Somehow, in full view of everyone, he'd been named as an official student assistant to Captain Monroe.

I never expected the first time he'd bring a woman to my rented apartment would be someone else.

I thought about how sweet he'd looked in the security footage, smiling at her like that.

I grabbed my backpack and hurled it into my supercar, one foot already inside the car.

Just as the engine was turning over, I saw Marcus being supported by a group of friends as they stumbled back across campus.

He knocked on my window. "I drank too much tonight. Not coming over."

Everyone around turned and stared at me, curious.

"So what's the deal between you two anyway? Why would he come to your place?" Owen called out.

"What deal?" Davis laughed. "Marcus literally confessed to Captain Monroe at the Mexican place tonight and got down on one knee. Honestly, I'm jealous as hell watching it."

I slammed the window shut, catching Marcus's fingers in the frame.

He yelped in pain. By the time he looked up again, the red car was already speeding away, leaving nothing but a cloud of black exhaust fumes in its wake.

The next day, I didn't go to class.

That evening, there was a knock at my apartment door. Marcus stood in the hallway, still reeking of alcohol.

"Vicky, I texted you. Why didn't you reply?"

I looked down at his chat thread. The message read: "How come you weren't at training? Your absence cost the whole unit 3 points."

In high school, during military training, I'd been sick often and missed a lot of days. Back then, Marcus would write my excuse notes and gently rub my head. "Vicky, I've got your back. No one's going to say anything about you."

However, he was now blaming me for it.

Seeing me still hunched over my laptop, Marcus frowned. "Since when do you study this much?"

I gave a vague answer. "I like studying now."

He grabbed my hand after a moment of silence. "Come on, don't waste time. They're doing roll call this afternoon."

Before I could respond, his phone rang. His voice softened completely. "Don't worry, Captain Monroe. I'll get her there. I'm not hot, I'm fine. Hey, is there anything you want to drink? I can grab it on the way."

He hung up and dragged me straight to the car, fastening my seatbelt without asking.

Halfway to a beverage shop, he suddenly turned back and asked, "Do you want anything to drink?"

I kept my head down. "No."

Marcus irritably tapped the car window, his eyes turning cold. "You're going to sulk about a little military training? Really?

"You're such a spoiled brat. You can't handle the smallest bit of hardship!"

During drills, Captain Monroe would always stroke Marcus's thigh from top to bottom as he passed, but when she got to me, she'd show no mercy, rapping my knees hard with her rod.

Marcus had no idea. He just thought I was being dramatic when I complained about the pain.

I was trying to compose myself when I heard him let out a sharp laugh.

"Vicky, there are plenty of new exciting things and new exciting people at university. If you don't behave, I can replace you anytime."

Marcus bought a whole trunk full of milkshakes for everyone. Except me.

We'd been dating for years, and he was always like this—testing me, provoking me. Every single time, I'd back down and apologize.

This time, I really didn't want to. As he said, there were plenty of other options, and we were young.

When we got to the training grounds, Captain Monroe saw me arriving empty-handed. The fire in her eyes dimmed, replaced by pure satisfaction.

She announced a game: push-ups in pairs.

Everyone paired up. I was the only one left without a partner.

I sighed and walked toward Marcus, but he didn't even look at me. He walked straight past and extended his hand to the captain.

Captain Monroe gasped. "Marcus, another girl is standing alone over there. How could you ditch her?"

Marcus's expression was flat. "Doesn't matter. I only want what I choose."

So I huddled in the corner and watched everyone play.

Nevertheless, Captain Monroe wouldn't let me rest. She had me keep count. On the final rep, she let her arms go slack, and her body dropped.

Chest to chest. Lip to lip.

Marcus didn't pull away.

Everyone cheered. He got up and wiped his mouth slowly, as if savoring the moment.

Only when his eyes caught mine did his smile die. "It was just a game. Don't overthink it."

I made a small sound and handed Captain Monroe the count. "52 in total."

Marcus's hands clenched into fists.

That night, he called. "Vicky, want to grab dinner?"

I was sitting in my apartment, slurping instant ramen, about to say no, when I heard the sound of his friends cheering in the background.

"Hey, Captain Monroe, what are you doing here? What a coincidence! Come sit, come sit."

"Man, I didn't realize how gorgeous you'd look without the uniform. We're lucky tonight!"

Marcus's voice came through again, but quieter. "You don't need to come."

He hung up.

Less than 30 minutes later, he texted me a location and a message: "Bring some hangover medicine. Everyone's had way too much to drink. Remember to drive. Get all of us back safe."

I pushed through the private room door. Captain Monroe was draped limply against Marcus's chest.

When he saw me, his eyes filled with irritation.

I knew it was the captain who'd sent the location and the texts, but I came anyway.

Captain Monroe buried her head in the crook of Marcus's neck, rubbing against it. He tugged irritably at his collar, his voice hoarse. "Didn't I tell you not to come?"

Captain Monroe gripped his hand in return. "I'm the one who asked her here. I'm feeling awful from drinking and need her to bring hangover medicine."

She twisted her hips, grinding against him slightly, playing up her drunkenness.

Marcus swallowed hard. His eyes darkened.

Seeing him wavering, I pulled a document from my bag. "Marcus, Dad says there are supplementary documents for the sponsorship agreement. He needs you to sign."

Our families weren't well-matched, so to secure our future, my father, Robert Wells, had offered to fund Marcus's education for $3 million a year. Among the college students, he could be seen as a rich guy overnight.

Well, I refused to sponsor him anymore.

The lighting in the private room was dim. Marcus signed his name without even looking at the papers.

When I tucked the document back into my bag, he suddenly grabbed my hand. "You came here just for this?"

When I nodded, his face darkened noticeably. He waved me away, telling me to leave quickly.

Then, suddenly, Captain Monroe called out to stop me. "Victoria, there's an extra person on the parade roster three days from now. Since you trained the least, why don't you skip it?"

She smiled. "I'm giving you a chance to slack off."

I pretended I didn't see the clarity and contempt in her eyes.

I replied flatly, "Whatever you say goes, Captain."

I left the room and emailed the document to Dad. On the phone, he asked when I'd decided to leave.

I thought for a moment. "Three days from now."

The moment those words left my mouth, I heard Marcus's confused voice behind me. "Three days? Where are you going?"

I didn't turn around. My face was blank.

"Where do you think? To watch your parade."

Marcus's body stiffened slightly. He pulled me into the car and leaned down to kiss me.

I instinctively pushed back. He hesitated, then kissed me deeper. After a long silence, he spoke, "Vicky, I know you've been feeling neglected lately.

"But when you start university and enter a new environment, some bumps in a relationship are normal. We just need time to adjust."

He shoved a movie ticket into my hands. "Tomorrow, 3 p.m. Don't be late."

I was planning to go, but the next day he showed up at my apartment door instead, dressed in a white hoodie and light blue jeans, like he'd stepped out of high school.

He linked his arm through mine, feeding me popcorn with his left hand while gripping my hand with his right, our fingers intertwined.

Looking at our locked fingers, all I felt was disgust at the sweat in his palm.

I stared blankly at the screen, yawning constantly.

Marcus frowned and turned to me. "Don't like this movie?"

"No, it's fine."

Feeling my indifference, he started to say something, but then his eyes caught a familiar figure in his peripheral vision. Captain Monroe was walking hand in hand with another male student, both of them glowing with affection.

He suddenly released my hand and walked straight out. He moved so abruptly that popcorn scattered everywhere.

Everyone around us turned to look. I whispered apologies over and over, bending down to pick up the kernels one by one.

When I looked up, he was gone. I didn't see him again until the movie ended.

As I was about to leave, I heard a man's roar coming from a nearby alley. He had Captain Monroe pinned against the wall, his eyes rimmed red as if they'd bleed.

"Tell me! Who is he? You've got other men besides me?"

Captain Monroe laughed softly, tilting his chin up with her finger. "Marcus, you're still too young. You don't understand adult complexity. I'm telling you, it's not just him. There are others… My little treasures."

With every word she spoke, his face grew darker. His knuckles cracked from how hard he was clenching them. His voice came out wounded. "You said you'd only like me. Can't you leave them? I have money. I can support you."

Captain Monroe scoffed. "They all have money. You're nothing special. I did lie to you. So do you still like me now?"

He froze.

I didn't watch any further, but I knew the answer.

After that day, Marcus didn't show up to training. Captain Monroe wore a sour expression throughout the session.

However, on the day of the parade, he appeared. Like always, he handed Captain Monroe a bottle of water. Then he handed her a bag.

Inside was a purple diamond necklace worth millions. It was a style I'd had my eye on for ages. Marcus must have spent the sponsorship to buy it.

Once Captain Monroe put on the necklace, he suddenly seemed to remember something, snapping back to reality. He walked over to me and cleared his throat.

"At the movie theater that day, I had to leave suddenly for something urgent. Did the movie end well or badly?"

Before I could answer, a fire alarm suddenly blared across campus. The crowd scattered in panic.

Before I could even react, I saw Marcus grab Captain Monroe's hand and rush toward a safe zone. He knocked me down in the process, and the next student running behind him stepped hard on my stomach.

I coughed up blood.

Five minutes later, the school announced that it was a false alarm, so the fire drill had been activated by accident.

Everyone relaxed, returning to their spots to resume formation.

Soon, the actual parade march played. Marcus stood in place, looking around for a long time, but couldn't find me anywhere. All that remained on the green grass was a small patch stained red.

Principal Lawrence Hart looked at the withdrawal application in front of him, his expression conflicted.

After all, my father had donated an entire library to the school on my first day.

After briefly explaining my reason for leaving, I picked up my suitcase and headed to the airport. As I was about to board, my phone kept buzzing.

There were messages from Marcus.

"How come you're not coming to the parade? You weren't even competing, but you're still part of the company.

"Vicky, I thought you'd forgiven me. Why are you causing trouble again?"

...

I couldn't be bothered responding. I just turned off the screen. Before switching to airplane mode, I sent him one final message.

"The movie ended badly. Marcus, let's break up."

I sent it, pulled my SIM card, and threw it in the trash.