His Smokescreen Is Now the Woman He Can’t Have Chapter 05

His Smokescreen Is Now the Woman He Can’t Have Chapter 05

When I woke, the first thing I smelled was disinfectant. I was in the West Point infirmary.

A white curtain separated my bed from the next, but I could still clearly hear the conversation on the other side.

“Caleb, you’re insane! You unclipped your main safety line to save her. That kind of violation could get you court-martialed!” a familiar voice said. It was one of Caleb’s friends.

“Yeah. You almost went down with her. Are you seriously into that Vance girl?”

The other side of the curtain went quiet.

I instinctively held my breath. The raw panic on his face before the fall sparked a ridiculous hope in my heart.

The next second, Caleb’s voice cut through the silence, cold and devoid of any warmth.

“You’re overthinking it,” he said. “I saved her because I can’t have an accident in my squad. Isabelle’s annual commendation is about to be announced. Any serious injury would affect the entire squad’s honor rating.”

Silence.

After a long moment, Isabelle’s soft, fragile voice sounded. “Is that… really the only reason, Caleb?”

“What else?” Caleb’s voice grew even colder. “Did you think I care about a cadet from the Vance family? A problem case who only got in because of old family connections and can’t even meet the physical standards? Her very presence is a stain on West Point’s honor.”

A stain on West Point’s honor.

Those words shocked me fully awake.

Before, a single careless sentence from him could keep me up all night. But this time, as his hard, cold words hit me, I felt nothing.

I just slowly closed my eyes and let out a long breath.

So that was it.

That was fine.

Now I didn’t have to worry about owing him anything.

Because Caleb and I had only suffered minor scrapes and bruises, we were released from the infirmary that same day.

The next afternoon was scheduled for personal equipment maintenance. Cadets were scattered around the dorms in small groups, polishing boots and cleaning weapons.

The atmosphere in the dorm I shared with Isabelle was as frigid as ever. As I was sorting through my locker, one of my roommates let out a soft exclamation.

“Elara, what’s that? It looks so professional.”

I followed her gaze to a canvas first-aid kit I had pulled from the depths of my locker. It had belonged to my mother, who had been a battlefield medic. Her initials were still printed on the bag, and its contents were far superior to the standard-issue kits the academy provided. I always kept it hidden away.

Before I could answer, Isabelle suddenly cried out from across the room.

Everyone looked over.

She had been sitting on the edge of her bed, cleaning her bayonet. Now, the blade had left a deep gash across her lower leg, and blood was already welling up.

“Oh my God, that’s a lot of blood!”

“Quick, get something to stop the bleeding!”

The dorm erupted into chaos. Unfortunately, everyone’s standard first-aid kits had been depleted during yesterday’s training and hadn’t been restocked.

“Use Elara’s!” someone shouted. “Hers looks the most professional!”

All eyes fell on me.

Isabelle’s face was pale, tears streaming down her cheeks. She looked pitiful.

I glanced at her, then at the expectant faces around me, all silently pressuring me to agree. I took out the first-aid kit, placed it on the table, and said lightly, “Go ahead.”

A roommate immediately reached for it, but another hand stopped her.

It was Caleb. I hadn’t seen him appear in the doorway.

He didn’t look at Isabelle, who was now sitting on the floor. Instead, he stared at me and said, each word distinct, “Elara, your mother’s name is on this. Are you really just going to let someone else use it?”

I remembered that he had seen this kit before. Once, when I was sorting through my mother’s things, he had glimpsed it by chance. He knew what it meant to me.

Now he was questioning my coldness, my willingness to so casually hand over something my mother had left me.

But he had forgotten. He and his friends were the ones who had first taught me the meaning of indifference.

I met his gaze, but before I could speak—

“Ah!”

Isabelle let out an even sharper cry of pain and curled up on the floor.

Caleb’s attention was immediately diverted. Forgetting me, he grabbed the first-aid kit, pulled out a roll of white gauze, and strode to Isabelle’s side, pressing it against her bleeding wound.

His movements were swift and sure.

Blood quickly soaked through the gauze, staining his long fingers red.

Watching the scene, a faint, cold smile touched my lips.

I turned and shoved the last of my personal items into my backpack, ready to leave the suffocating room.

But I had just reached the door when—

“Ah! It hurts!”

Isabelle screamed again, even more dramatically this time. She shoved Caleb’s hand away, her face twisting in pain.

“It hurts! Caleb, it hurts so much! There’s something in the bandage! Something hard just scraped my wound!”

Caleb froze.

He looked down at the blood-soaked gauze, then his head snapped up to look at me.

The next second, as if ignited, he rushed over and grabbed my wrist. His expression was terrifying.

“Elara Vance,” he said, his voice chilling the room, “what the hell did you put in this bandage?”