Storms of the Heart novel Chapter 18

"General Hauser? Are you awake?"

A guard's voice rang in his ears, filled with a mix of surprise and relief.

Julian struggled to open his eyes. Above him, the makeshift ceiling of the field hospital tent came into view, the air thick with the sharp scent of disinfectant and blood.

He moved his cracked lips, trying to speak, but his throat was so hoarse that no sound came out.

The guard, Lionel Woodward, quickly dipped a cotton swab in water and carefully moistened Julian's lips.

Julian took a long moment to gather some strength. When he finally looked at Lionel, a faint, almost unbelievable hope glimmered in his eyes.

He whispered hoarsely, "Does she… know my condition?"

He knew it was a foolish question. He was at the border, cut off from almost all communication, and she was across the ocean. There was no way she could know how he was.

Yet deep down, he still clung to a faint, fragile hope that she might care about news of him, even if just a little.

Lionel paused before he realized who Julian was referring to.

His expression darkened, and he shook his head slowly. "Mrs. Hauser… Ms. Shepherd didn't know. We followed your orders and kept everything to ourselves. We were afraid… of disturbing her."

The faint glimmer in Julian's eyes vanished in an instant, leaving only a lifeless void.

He slowly closed his eyes, turned his head to the side, and said nothing more. The dull ache in his chest was far more unbearable than any of the wounds on his body.

Even before his wounds had fully healed, Julian fought to return home. The military doctors strongly opposed it, but he remained resolute, invoking his authority as a major general.

On the bumpy journey back, he leaned against the back seat of the jeep, enduring the pain from his injuries. Under the dim light, he took out a piece of paper and a pen and began to write.

He wrote slowly and painfully, each word sapping the last of his strength.

He wrote of his regrets, his foolishness, and the truth his heart had only realized when he was on the brink of death.

He wrote of the one he had loved all along—and lost, realizing far too late that she was the only one he had ever truly loved.

He wrote that he couldn't live without her and begged her to give him one more chance.

In the end, he had a thick stack of papers filled with words of love he had never spoken aloud and humble, desperate pleas.

It almost exhausted every ounce of emotion Julian, the usually cold-faced general, had ever possessed.

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