Chapter 1
Eliza Aldridge slumped into the cushioned chair at a dimly lit café, staring blankly across the table at her latest blind date. Cedric Hawthorne was a thirty-eight-year-old IT consultant with thinning hair and an alarming amount of confidence for a man whose resume boasted little more than a cushy desk job. “So, I’m from a small town in Northumbria. My parents are alive and well, and my brother owns a little coffee shop called The Cozy Nook. It’s doing pretty well,” he said, adjusting his glasses with a self-satisfied grin. “I graduated from Knight's Academy. Now I’ve got a nice place in Kingston, right in the city center. I drive a BMW, you know. You said you just finished med school, right? How’s that going?” Eliza forced a polite smile while her mind wandered. She toyed with her glass, filled with an overly sweet plum drink that felt more like a child’s soda than anything remotely sophisticated. “Yeah, I just got back home after years abroad.” What was she even doing here? This was the tenth time her family had pushed her into an awkward setup, and she was beginning to run out of polite conversation. “Ah, med school takes a lot of time, huh? Have you found a job yet?” Cedric continued, oblivious to her growing disinterest. “Not yet. It’s tough to break in as a rookie surgeon, you know?” she replied, glancing at the time on her phone, wishing this would end soon. “Don’t worry, I have connections at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. They could use someone like you. And you know, with my salary, if we end up getting hitched, you wouldn’t even have to work. You could be a stay-at-home wife.” Eliza felt her jaw tighten. Here she was, trying to grapple with her own career ambitions, and Cedric was discussing marriage like it was an I.O.U. “I don’t think that’s—” “Miss Aldridge, I’m sure your parents are eager to see you married off, right? My situation is pretty good in Kingston. You have to think about your circumstances—” His words muddled together in her head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I think we should—” “Let’s spend a few more days together. If we can make it work, why not? After all, you want to find someone suitable, don’t you?” Suitable? Eliza felt her blood boil. “You know what? That’s pretty presumptuous of you. I don’t think this is going to work out.” “Come on, don’t be like that. We can—” “Honestly, I thought it was me who wasn’t good enough for you! So let’s just save us both the trouble, alright?” She stood up, her heart racing. Cedric’s face turned an alarming shade of red. “Miss Aldridge! You’re going to pay for that drink!” Eliza clenched her fists, her thoughts racing as she pivoted back toward him in her high heels. Without a second thought, she raised her glass and splashed the remaining drink right in his face. “On me! Enjoy!” Then she marched to the counter to settle the tab, chin held high, her heart pounding with righteous indignation. Once outside, she dialed her mother, ready to vent. “Mom, can we please stop with these blind dates? They just keep getting worse! That guy was—ugh!” “Don’t be silly! This one is an executive at Ironworks Consortium, earning a hundred grand a year! You could do so much worse.” Eliza rolled her eyes. Just because he had money didn’t mean he wasn’t a jerk. “He wasn’t even worth my time, Mom. I’m done with this!” “You're being unreasonable! What if you never get married? I can’t bear the thought of you alone forever!” With a flare of frustration, Eliza hung up the call. Her mom never understood. She’d done the obedient daughter act for twenty-nine years, but not this time. She needed a break from the endless matchmaking. She’d returned home, dreaming of making waves in the medical field after a decade of study in Albion, but instead, she was just another intern, lost in paperwork and coffee runs. Tonight, for once, she wanted to be wild, to shake off the shackles of expectation and breathe.
Chapter 2
In the dimly lit corner of The King's Alehouse, the air was thick with the soft strains of melancholy music. Eliza Aldridge sat at the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey that she threw back in one swift motion. She had lost count of how many drinks she’d downed tonight. The alcohol was swirling through her veins, clouding her thoughts, leaving her in a haze of fragmented memories and emotions. Suddenly, a figure slid into the seat two spots away from her. He ordered a whiskey and knocked it back without hesitation. Eliza couldn’t quite make out his features, but there was an unapproachable aura around him that both intrigued and unnerved her. Her gaze lingered on him; his profile was sharp against the bar’s low light, and something about his presence demanded attention. He seemed to be oblivious to her scrutiny, lost in his solitude as he poured another drink down his throat. Time lost its meaning in the space between them, broken only by the occasional clink of glass. Eliza’s vision wavered, blurring at the edges. She wasn’t entirely aware that staring could be rude. But the man appeared unfazed, continuing to drown his thoughts in whiskey despite the weight of her gaze. William Bennett, by any standard, was not a man who sought solace in bars. In the military, camaraderie was his escape; he’d rather drink himself into a stupor with his brothers-in-arms than sit alone in a place like this, filled with loud voices and strangers. But tonight was different. Tonight, he needed to be alone with his thoughts—no one else. July 18th marked a painful anniversary, the day his life twisted into a knot he couldn't untangle. It had been a year since his mother’s passing, the cancer that stripped her away from him too soon. In those final days, when she needed him the most, he was stuck with the burden of his duties, training his men to perfection while she faded away in a hospital bed. As a captain in the Royal Vanguard, he was responsible for over two hundred special reconnaissance soldiers, a team he was fiercely proud of. Every new soldier that joined brought its own challenges, and alongside those challenges, he fought for victories that seemed trivial now. While he stood in the blinding sun of drill practice, shouting commands and counting down the minutes until their next competition, his phone buzzed incessantly with his father’s calls. Each message was laced with desperation, urging him to take leave, to come home, to say goodbye. But he buried himself deeper in the task at hand, convinced that if he just pushed a little harder, everything would be okay. It wasn’t okay. He’d rushed to the hospital after the competition, heart racing with dread, only to find he was too late. His mother had slipped away, leaving behind a void that echoed loudly in the silence he now inhabited. Surrounded by white walls and sterile smells, his father’s rage lashed out at him like a whip, spitting bitter words that sliced through the air. “Get out! I don’t want to see you again!” William could hardly comprehend it. He sat outside on a cold bench, cigarette after cigarette burning away in his trembling fingers. He choked back the tears that threatened to spill but found the hurt too deep for any release. At the funeral, his father’s cold shoulder was like ice, a wall of resentment between them. Yet, in that crowded room, his grandfather’s grip around his hand was warm, grounding, reminding him that life was cruel and absurd, but it continued regardless. But there was one last wish from his mother—a final request that twisted the knife deeper. She had wanted him to marry, to find someone to share his life with. The thought settled in him like a weight he was unsure how to handle. Lost in his whirlwind of memories, William took another swig of whiskey, the burn reminding him he was still here, still alive. Eliza watched this man pour his soul into every glass, and though she didn’t know his name, she felt the raw, palpable grief radiating off him. For reasons she couldn't articulate, she was compelled to stay close, sharing the unspoken understanding that the world could be a heavy burden to carry alone.
Chapter 3
At thirty, William Bennett found himself still single, without so much as a girlfriend. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to settle down; it was just that his life as a soldier complicated things. He was good at his job—meticulous, driven, and reliable. His superiors noticed. They consistently assigned him tasks, both big and small, that showcased his talents, which meant he had more chances to earn commendations and climb the ranks. But with each promotion came greater danger, and every mission could be his last. Romance was a risky venture. He never engaged in blind dates aiming for marriage; how could he offer someone the security they deserved when he couldn’t even guarantee his own safety? Each day he faced life-and-death situations, and the weight of that reality kept him from opening up to anyone. His grandfather had given him a ring once, a family heirloom that once belonged to his mother. It was meant for Eleanor Whitaker, his destined partner, but fate had other plans. In her final moments, she never passed it on. Back at the base, everyone knew his story. Even management offered him three months off to recuperate, but he declined. He hadn’t taken a break in years, pushing through training and missions. Silent and serious by nature, he only grew more withdrawn. For a year, he’d buried his feelings, attempting to erase memories of his mother by drowning himself in drills. He hoped that hard work would be enough to banish the past. In that time, he was promoted to Colonel, yet the achievement brought him no joy—he remained as stoic as ever. Tonight, he would confront his memories head-on. Each minute detail replayed in his mind like a film—reminders of his childhood with his mother, enveloping him in nostalgia as he rolled the ring between his fingers. It was all he had left of her, a solitary relic in a house full of memories he hadn’t revisited since. Eliza Aldridge watched him from across the bar, keenly aware of even the slightest change in his demeanor. Despite his composed facade, she could feel the sadness radiating off him. Was this commanding figure really hurting inside? Her curiosity piqued, Eliza decided to act. After downing a few more drinks to gather her nerve, she stood up, the alcohol fueling her courage. But she stumbled as she approached him, losing her balance and lurching towards him. William reacted instantly, instinctively catching her by the shoulder and helping her steady herself. “Thanks,” she flashed him a grateful smile, but he merely nodded and returned to his drink, a wall of silence forming between them. Undeterred by his coldness, Eliza sat beside him, keen to spark conversation, yet he remained completely non-responsive. Was this guy mute? She felt a flush of embarrassment heat her cheeks. As he lifted his glass for another sip, Eliza seized the opportunity. Before he could register what was happening, she snatched the drink from his hand and downed it in one go, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You really need to lighten up!” she declared, and without waiting for a reply, she reached for the ring he’d been toying with. “You seem attached to this,” she teased, slipping it onto her finger with a playful grin. “What’s the story behind it? Bet it’s got some magic, right?” She tilted her head, showing off the ring now perched on her hand, her eyes sparkling. “How do I look in it? Beautiful, right?” William stared at her, caught between irritation and intrigue.
Chapter 4
William Bennett frowned as he reached for the ring, only for Eliza Aldridge to pull away. She stumbled back a few steps, her head spinning from the whiskey she'd consumed. In a flash, he was in front of her, grabbing her wrist to reclaim the ring. Eliza instinctively curled her fingers into a fist to keep it from him. “Let go!” she retorted, a bit more defiant than she intended. “Ah, look who can talk after all,” she shot back, anger bubbling over. The day had already been a disaster—a blind date that went wrong, and Margaret's biting comments echoing in her mind. “Guess what? The ring’s on my finger, which means I’m your wife now!” William could have dismissed her statement as drunken nonsense, but glancing at the ring gleaming on her finger brought back memories of what his mother had told him a year ago: that only Eleanor Whitaker of the Bennett family could wear that ring. He wasn’t superstitious—at least, he didn't think so—but the irony hit hard today, her death anniversary, when a girl who didn’t belong in his world casually wore the family heirloom. Eliza pressed her forehead, the dizziness threatening to spill over. She realized too late how much she’d had to drink. Clutching William’s arm, she felt herself sway, a wave of blackness swallowing her whole. When Eliza finally stirred, she found herself in an enormous bed, sunlight pouring through the massive windows. Her head throbbed, and she squinted against the piercing brightness. How had her room transformed? She was used to her little twin mattress—this felt like a king-sized cloud. She bolted upright, checking herself over. Dressed in a hotel bathrobe and nothing else beneath it, her heart raced. What on Earth happened last night? Bare feet hit the floor as she scrambled to find her clothes, but then her gaze landed on a note on the nightstand. She snatched it up, her heart pounding as she read the messy handwriting: “Marriage certificate is signed. The ATM PIN is your birthday. I had to run an errand, be back soon…” She practically tore open the drawer and gasped at what she saw—her bank card and a red booklet. No way. No freaking way. Pulling out the booklet confirmed her worst fears: a marriage certificate. Just like that, she was a married woman. Thoughts whirled in her mind as her temper boiled. How could she have been so reckless to say wearing his ring made her his wife? Sure, it was a throwaway line—one she hadn’t meant a single word of. But clearly, some people took those things seriously. She wanted to scream at William Bennett, too. What was wrong with him? Did he really have to make a joke out of everything? Did he think she’d mean it if she drunkenly said she wanted to chop off her finger for a ring? After letting out a frustrated groan, she collapsed back onto the bed, feeling like she had been hit with a freight train, and now she had an official document tying her to him. Great. Just great. But maybe it wasn't the end of the world; at least next Christmas, she could show up with a "boyfriend"—now that would be a story, right? “Just perfect,” Eliza muttered under her breath, her mind racing with a thousand wild thoughts as all she could picture were the sheer number of awkward conversations that lay ahead.
Chapter 5
A few days had passed since Eliza Aldridge and William Bennett had tied the knot in a whirlwind of spontaneity, yet somehow she had lost all contact with him. More accurately, she wanted to reach out to him, but she didn’t have his number. William, meanwhile, had just wrapped up a hazardous mission, only to be stretchered back with a broken leg. After a quick fix-up on-site, he was airlifted directly to a public hospital in Kingston, where surgery awaited him. The lead surgeon, upon assessing the situation, said he’d arrived just in the nick of time. The surgery was a success; with a bit of rest, his leg would heal fine. His teammates who had traveled with him breathed a collective sigh of relief. At that moment, William was still out cold, the anesthesia lingering in his system, but they expected him to wake up by the afternoon. His right leg was encased in a plaster cast, and it was evident he’d be reliant on crutches for a while. The circumstances of his injury left his squad bewildered. Everything had gone smoothly during the reconnaissance, and just as they were making their exit, William had stepped right into a hidden trap, snapping his calf under a bear trap and nearly drawing the enemy’s eye. Talk about a rookie mistake—this kind of slip-up was unheard of within the ranks of Royal Vanguard. They couldn’t wrap their heads around how William of all people had faltered in such an elementary way. What they didn’t know was that the real culprit behind this misfortune was Garrett Thompson. Garrett, a seasoned veteran, had a knack for carelessness; he often found himself at the center of mishaps. If he hadn’t had solid connections with a few commanders, and if William didn’t have some semblance of fondness for him, he’d have been booted from Royal Vanguard long ago. The truth was, during their retreat, Garrett had mistakenly assumed the danger had passed and crept up to William, whispering a half-hearted joke. For a split second, his concentration slipped, allowing him to overlook the rusted tripwire ahead. William had spotted it and yanked Garrett back just in time, but not before stepping onto the bear trap himself. In a twisted sense, he had gotten injured while trying to save Garrett from being a liability. Yet, the entire team assumed it was just a lapse in William’s judgment. Garrett found himself on the balcony, lighting a cigarette, the guilt gnawing at him. As the squad leader, William was injured because of him, and that didn’t sit right. Just as he took a drag from his smoke, a nurse stormed over, her eyes blazing. “You! Yes, you! Didn’t you read the no-smoking signs? Are you blind? Put that out!” “This is the balcony! Am I not allowed to smoke out here?” Garrett shot back defiantly. “‘No smoking’ means ‘no smoking’! This is a hospital! If you want to light up, go downstairs, take a left, then a right to the garden! Don’t think just because you’re in fatigues, you can act above the rules! Put it out now, or I’ll make it my mission to extinguish it for you!” She motioned dramatically toward a fire extinguisher sitting a few feet away. “Nice try, nurse, but you’re barking up the wrong tree!” Garrett scoffed. Although he mouthed off, his hand crushed the cigarette and he tossed the butt to the ground, stamping it out with his boot. “Actually, I'm a doctor! Not a nurse! Do you not see?” Eliza Aldridge spat, exasperated. She was tired of being mistaken for a nurse. Didn’t her name tag, boldly displaying “SURGEON,” make it clear enough? “Ah, a surgical intern. Be careful—if you keep meddling, you might just get demoted back to nurse! But at this rate, my dear, between your poor priority choices, I wish you the best in hitting that nurse supervisor position soon,” he teased, smirking. “Go screw yourself!” Eliza growled, lifting her foot and stepping down hard on his foot with all her might, the intensity making him hop on one leg and clutch at his injured appendage. “Damn!”
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