7. Chapter 7

A sense of relief and comfort washes over me as I step through the familiar doorway of my home. It took an entire year to make it back here, and the circumstances that brought me here are far from ideal. But there is still a part of me that is grateful to be back where I belong, with my gorgeous wife and our beautiful baby boy. Even if it is for a short time.

I still can't believe that I am a father. It still feels surreal. They say there is no love quite like the love between a parent and their child, and I can attest to that fact. My heart swells with indescribable love every time I look at that sweet little boy. Our perfect little bundle of joy who resembles both Jeyla and myself in all the right ways.

Though I must admit, whenever I pictured us having kids, I had pictured a little girl who would have looked just like her mother. But seeing DJ's big green eyes staring up at me fills my heart with so much love.

As a military man, I have seen some horrific things during my time on duty. But this past year has been by far the worst of my life, beginning with the one phone call I received from my superior requesting for me to return to base urgently. Right there and then, I knew it couldn't be good news.

Jeyla and I had always known that our life together would be challenging, but nothing could have prepared us for the devastating events that followed our blissful two months of marriage. I remember sitting in my superior's office, barely registering what he was saying as he and a team of strategists planned out my supposed demise.

A nauseating churn gripped my stomach as the dreaded vision of Jeyla receiving an official death notification tormented my mind. The thought of her devastation twisted my insides, a visceral ache that nearly compelled me to beg for a swift end right then and there.

The mere notion of consciously subjecting Jeyla and my family to such agony was unbearable. I would have rather taken the bullet than ever live on knowing I inflicted such pain upon them.

Then, they handed me a stack of photos, and an icy dread seized me.

Each photograph revealed Jeyla's face staring back at me. Her eyes filled with life. It felt as though every drop of blood had suddenly drained from my body, leaving me shivering with cold terror. Interspersed among these images were pictures of Ashlyn, my mother, Oz, and my dad—each one pushing the dagger deeper to my heart.

In that chilling moment of clarity, I realized I had no choice. To protect Jeyla and my family, I would have to follow through with the plan, no matter what it demanded of me.

"You do understand, Lieutenant," the gruff voice of the Commander filled the room, "that once the plan is set into motion there is no going back. Your life as Lieutenant Dean Reyes, combat fighter and beloved husband, will be erased. You'll be given a whole new identity, moved to an unknown town in a remote location and you will start over as Damon Ruiz, a rough-handed construction worker from London with no family, who left everything behind for a fresh start in Italy. You can't ever make contact with anyone from your previous life. Not your wife, not your family or friends. They will believe you dead. It's a very big sacrifice, son." The weight of his words settled on my shoulders like a heavy cloak, suffocating me with the realization that everything I once held dear would be gone forever.

My heart twisted in agony at the thought of never seeing Jeyla again. It was like a sharp blade cutting through my soul, tearing me apart.

How could I possibly move on and start a new life without her by my side? The mere idea felt suffocating, like trying to breathe with a weight crushing my chest. Leaving behind the new life I had just begun with Jeyla felt like death by a thousand cuts, each one taking away another piece of my being. The future that once held so much promise now seemed bleak and hopeless.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

The memory of our last phone conversation is still etched into my mind, each word as vivid as if it were spoken just yesterday. I can still hear the infectious excitement in her voice when I lied and told her that I would finally be coming home. While she was buzzing with elation, my heart and soul felt like they were being slowly and painfully torn apart, bleeding out from wounds I alone could feel.

That moment haunted me every single day for an entire year, knowing it was the last time I would ever get to speak to her, one final opportunity to tell her that I love her. I barely managed to keep myself composed during the call, but the instant I hit that red button and hung up, my facade crumbled. I broke down completely, sobbing uncontrollably like a baby.

I wept for the future I had promised her—the life we planned together and never got to live.

I may as well have been dead, because surrendering a life I cherished to live one built on lies was a fate far worse than death itself. I'm a goddamn fighter pilot, my soul is intertwined with the skies. I dedicated every fibre of my being for over a decade to becoming the best air combat pilot the RAF had ever seen. I poured literal blood, sweat, and tears into my career only to see it ripped away from me. It wasn't just a job—it was my identity, the very essence of who I am. Without my career and the woman I love, I didn't fit in the new fabricated life they constructed for me.

I yearned for my life back. And were it not for Jeyla and my family, I would have faced my end with a defiant grin etched across my face, fighting till my last breath before I let anyone strip me of my life.

While I can't say I was unhappy with where I ended up, there are certainly less desirable places to be. Italy proved to be a dreamlike experience. The town selected for me—Sorrento—was nothing short of a picturesque wonderland, adorned with its vibrant buildings painted in every shade of the rainbow and offering breathtaking views of a shimmering sea that stretched infinitely under the golden sun.

Each day, as I wandered through this charming locale, I couldn't help but imagine Jeyla walking beside me, her stunning green eyes wide with awe as they absorbed the enchanting sights. She would have been captivated by the winding cobblestone streets, each brimming with quaint charm and bustling with the lively energy of coastal life. Despite Sorrento's undeniable allure and tranquil beauty, I've always been a city dweller at heart. The fast-paced energy and constant movement of urban life is what I thrive on. Unless I'm seventy years old and contemplating retirement, a serene and peaceful small town isn't quite my cup of tea. If Viktor Lukin didn't kill me, the fucking boredom would have.

Once I'm showered, I step back into the bedroom and the silence that greets me is deafening; punctuated only by the faint sound of my own breathing. A pang of disappointment hits me as I realize that she must not be here. Slowly exhaling, I let my gaze sweep over the room before closing the door behind me. Maybe she's gone to check on DJ or retreated downstairs. With a resigned sigh, I make my way towards the wardrobe, my fingers grazing against familiar fabrics and textures. Each piece hangs untouched and neatly folded, just as Jeyla said it was. It's both comforting and disorienting to see all of my belongings exactly as I left them, yet everything else feels… different. I feel like I'm stepping into a stranger's version of my own life, and I hate it.

Obviously, I didn't return with the naive hope that Jeyla would accept me with open arms, ready to pick up where we left off. Of course, it wouldn't be that easy, not after what she went through and definitely not for us. If I know Jeyla—and I do—she's going to wilfully cling to the resentment she's currently feeling toward me. And who can blame her, after everything I put her through, her trust has been shattered and it's going to take time to fix that… time I might not have. As much as I longed to make things right between us, my main focus right now is ensuring her and DJ's safety, because the thought of anything happening to them terrifies me to my very core and this world isn't ready for the wrath I will unleash if either of them get hurt.

Pulling on a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms I walk out of the bedroom and quietly move over to the nursery to see if Jeyla is in there with the baby. Pushing the door open slowly I find the nursery empty except for DJ sleeping soundly in his crib.

DJ's nursery is warm and cheerful. The walls painted a soft, buttery yellow that radiates a sense of joy and tranquillity. As I step into the room, the gentle glow of the walls immediately envelopes me in a warm embrace, creating an inviting and cozy atmosphere. The room is filled with the delicate aroma of baby powder and the faint sound of lullabies playing in the background, creating a peaceful and loving atmosphere.

In one corner, a pristine white crib stands as the centrepiece, adorned with a mobile of pastel-coloured stars and moons that dangle overhead. The crib is dressed in a quilt of tiny yellow and white ducks and fluffy clouds—adding a touch of softness to the room.

Near the crib, a plush white rocking chair beckons with its comfortable cushions, perfect for midnight feedings and quiet moments of bonding. A soft, knitted throw blanket in a pale- yellow hue is draped over the back. I picture Jeyla sitting in that chair and feeding our son during the night and warmth fills my chest at the thought. And then it hits me all over again that I missed out on so much. The pregnancy, the birth, decorating the nursery and building our baby's crib and furniture. The thought of Jeyla going through the experience all by herself, or with my brother, when it should have been me makes me sick to my stomach.

Shaking my head of those unpleasant images, I move over to the crib to watch my son sleep and I can't help but smile. He really is perfect. I still can't believe we have a baby together. After her accident and losing our first baby, Jeyla and I were sure we wouldn't have children in our future, yet here we are with a beautiful son.

Despite Jeyla's condition and not being able to conceive, I couldn't contain my satisfaction that my boys had defied all odds and successfully impregnated her. If anything, it's a testament to the strength of our love and the amount of sex we had on our honeymoon alone; it's really no surprise that one of them had taken root. And now, DJ is the living embodiment of our fierce and everlasting love for each other.

Bending down, I gently press my lips to his forehead and inhale deeply, relishing in that sweet baby scent. My heart swells with love as I whisper, "I wish I could promise to always be around and watch you grow up to be the amazing man your mother will raise you to be."

Closing my eyes, I nuzzle my nose against his soft head and release a contented sigh. "No matter what happens to me, I want you to know that you had a dad who loved you more than anything. And if there's one thing I can promise, it's that I will fight like hell to come back home to you and your mum. But if I don't survive this mess, just know that I will never stop watching over you both."

A heavy lump forms in my throat, thickening with each passing moment as emotions threaten to overwhelm me. The sting of tears begins to spread behind my closed eyelids, aching to break free and unleash the flood of feelings that are unravelling inside of me one at a time. It takes every ounce of strength I possess to hold back the onslaught.

Walking away from Jeyla once was excruciatingly difficult, but having to do it a second time and knowing the odds of me making it back are slim is just crushing. Like a stone sinking into quicksand, the longer I look at my son the heavier and burdened my heart feels.

After whispering a quiet ‘I love you' to my son, I leave the nursery and make my way downstairs to find Jeyla. Halfway down the stairs my ears pick up low murmurs coming from the kitchen.

"If it were anyone else, I wouldn't hesitate, I would have fought to the death for you," I hear Oz say and I feel a painful knot form in my stomach. "I wish there was a way I could turn these feelings off, now more than fucking ever, but I can't Jeyla, nor am I deluded enough to believe that I'll ever be a choice when I'm up against Dean."

My jaw clenches, the muscles in my face tightening as I ball my hands into fists at my side. A searing heat ignites deep within my gut upon hearing his words, spreading like wildfire through my body. I've always been aware of my brother's feelings towards Jeyla; he's been in love with her for as long as I have. And yes, it has bothered me. After all, they have always been incredibly close, and it was hard to not feel a tinge of envy over their friendship and unshakable bond over the years. But despite his feelings for her, I always knew that deep down, Oz would never act on them. Hell, he could have probably done what I couldn't and given her the happy and uncomplicated life she deserves.

It seems it took for me to ‘die' for my big brother to find his balls and finally open up to her about his feelings. Had I not already known about their secret ‘relationship' I would have marched in there and beaten him within an inch of his life.

After I was handed the photos of the two of them by the security officers sent to keep an eye on Jeyla after we received the threats, I remember staring at it for over an hour. I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. My brother and my wife? Their betrayal still sits like a knife embedded into my back. And I realise that the blame wasn't on them, it was all on me, and I accept that even if it is a fucking hard pill to swallow.

I can still feel the beast inside me shaking with anger, and lucky for Oz I already beat my frustration and anger into a boxing bag for two days straight or I would have lunged at him and rearranged his entire face.

I'm still waiting for either of them to come clean about their so-called relationship, but she's said nothing and neither has he. The mere idea of Jeyla possibly returning his affection is enough to drive me into a fit of madness. Yet, I do find some small comfort in knowing that he feels guilty for his actions and understands that he will never measure up to what Jeyla and I have. Hell, he can try his best and I can't blame him for wanting to, but my presence in her life has left shoes too big and expansive for him to ever fill.

As much as I'm hurt and feel betrayed by him, watching them together now and the way he's looking at her, if I had to choose between some stranger for Jeyla to be with or Oz… I would choose Oz every time. Because if anyone loves her almost as much as I do, it's him. And Jeyla deserves to be loved blindly, madly and unconditionally.

I just hope to shit I'm not too late.