---- Chapter 16 Julian Gallegos POV: Al-Tharbia was a chaotic hellscape of dust, desperation, and the constant, unnerving threat of violence. For weeks, | searched. | used my money and connections to bribe officials, hire local guides, and chase down rumors. | moved like a ghost through crowded markets and refugee camps, my face hidden, my heart pounding with a single-minded obsession. Find her. There were days | thought | was going insane, that the photo had been a mirage, a cruel trick of my guilt-ridden mind. | saw her everywhere-in the turn of a woman's head, in a laugh that sounded like hers, in a flash of dark, wavy hair in a crowd. But it was never her. | was beginning to lose hope, sinking into a dark pit of despair, when | finally saw her. She was in a small, dusty town square, helping unload supplies from a truck. She was with a man. He was tall, with kind eyes, and he looked at her with an easy, familiar affection that made my blood run cold. They were laughing about something. Her laugh. The sound | had been starved for, the sound | thought | would never hear again. ---- But she wasn't laughing with me. She was laughing with him. | stayed in the shadows, watching them. | watched as they moved through the crowd, handing out food and blankets. | watched as he gently brushed a stray piece of hair from her face. | watched as she smiled at him, a real, genuine smile that lit up her entire face. A smile | hadn't seen in years, not since before the accident. They were a team. They were partners. They were... happy. The jealousy was a physical thing, a hot, venomous bile that rose in my throat. This man, this stranger, had the life that should have been mine. He had my wife. | followed them. | learned his name was Gordon Murray. A doctor. | learned they worked together, lived in the same compound. | watched them from afar, my obsession growing with every shared smile, every casual touch. One afternoon, | saw them in a local hospital. | had been there for a check-up; the stress and the constant drinking were taking their toll on my body. | was weak, a shadow of my former self. As | was leaving, | saw them walking down the hallway towards me. My heart stopped. She was so close. | could have reached out and touched her. | opened my mouth to call her name, but my voice wouldn't work. What could | even say? I'm sorry | destroyed your life, ---- but | love you? She looked up and her eyes met mine. For a single, heart-stopping moment, the world fell away. | saw it all in her eyes. Shock. Fear. And a deep, bone-chilling hatred. She didn't scream. She didn't run. She simply looked at me as if | were a piece of filth on the bottom of her shoe, then she turned her back and walked away, her hand finding Gordon's. | tried to follow, but my legs buckled beneath me. A wave of dizziness and pain washed over me. Mark had to help me back to our safe house. The doctor said my stomach lining was eroded from the alcohol, that | had a bleeding ulcer. He said if | didn't stop, it would kill me. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony of seeing her look at me that way. The hope that had been fueling me curdled into a new, more desperate obsession. It wasn't just about forgiveness anymore. It was about winning. | had to get her back. | had to erase him from her life, just as he had tried to erase me. | would not lose her to him. | would not lose her again.