Chapter 5 - The Hotel Lobby
The rain had started, drumming a steady, rhythmic beat against the glass canopy of the country club’s grand entrance.
Ryan and I stood beneath the awning, the valet parking attendants staring discreetly from a distance while whispering among themselves. The adrenaline of the ballroom confrontation was slowly fading, leaving behind the heavy, hollow ache of a family completely shattered in less than ten minutes.
“You didn't have to blow up your entire wedding for me, you know,” I said, pulling my travel jacket tighter around my shoulders against the damp chill.
Ryan let out a harsh, humorless laugh, shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets as he watched the rain hit the pavement.
“It wasn't for you, Nora,” he said softly, turning his head to look at me. “Well, not entirely. I’ve been sitting through family dinners with them for six months, listening to how ‘distant’ and ‘cold’ Lily’s older sister is—how you abandoned the family for a uniform. But every time I looked at your operational reports on my desk, I saw a woman carrying the weight of a fleet while they sat here drinking bourbon and complaining about seating arrangements.”
I looked away, feeling an unaccustomed heat prickle behind my eyelids. “They’re still my family.”
“Blood doesn't give people the right to treat you like dirt,” Ryan said firmly. “You deserved better than that table at the end of the room. You deserved better than being treated like a ghost.”
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed violently in my pocket.
I pulled it out. The screen flashed with a text message from an unknown, encrypted number—a military priority alert code that made my stomach drop instantly.
FLASH TRAFFIC: COMMANDER HAYES. PRIORITY ONE RECALL. ALL LEAVE CANCELLED EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY. REPORT TO NORFOLK JOINT OPERATIONS CENTER WITHIN 0400.
I stared at the glowing screen, the civilian world of rehearsal dinners, country clubs, and petty family feuds dissolving into absolute nothingness in a single second.
Ryan noticed the change in my posture instantly. His eyes dropped to the phone.
May you like
“What is it?” he asked, his voice dropping into professional command mode.
“Recall,” I whispered, lifting my gaze to meet his. “Priority one. The Pacific Fleet just lost satellite telemetry over the South China Sea.”
