The Divorced Military Queen Awakens (by Sadie Baxter) novel Chapter 586

**TITLE: Military 586**

“You cried quite a bit,” Weston said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, the weight of the moment hanging thick in the air. “And you shared so many things.”

Laura felt her shoulders stiffen, tension coiling like a tightly wound spring within her. “What exactly did I say?”

The mere thought sent a wave of discomfort washing over her, and she grimaced inwardly. She had to remind herself once more that seeking thrill through alcohol never justified the painful consequences that followed.

Weston’s long lashes fell, casting shadows over his eyes as he struggled to meet her gaze. For the first time, he seemed unable to confront her directly.

“You mentioned…” He parted his lips, but the words seemed to stick in his throat, sharp and thorny, refusing to come out easily.

“What did I say, Weston?” The longer he hesitated, the more tightly her nerves twisted, like vines ensnaring her heart.

“You said you miss your mother. You expressed a wish to bring your boyfriend to her grave because you didn’t want to face it alone.” The confession felt like a heavy stone rolling off his tongue, each syllable a testament to his inner turmoil.

He had stood in countless courtrooms, commanding respect and claiming victories, his confidence unwavering no matter the brutality of the cases. Yet, in this moment, he felt like a defendant awaiting a verdict, the weight of judgment pressing down on him.

Laura stared at him, her mind racing, before she forced out a brittle laugh, a sound that felt foreign even to her. “I must have been rambling nonsense. Just forget it. Thank you for seeing me home. You can leave now.”

“The boyfriend you intended to invite… that was me, wasn’t it?” Weston’s voice was barely a breath, a fragile thread of hope woven into his words.

She offered a faint, dismissive smile, one that barely touched her eyes. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Yes, she had always been drawn to handsome faces, but in truth, only one man had ever truly held the title of boyfriend in her life—Weston Windore.

All of that—the half-healed wounds, the history she had just laid bare—seemed to fade into insignificance, at least in her own mind.

A flicker of pain crossed Weston’s face, tightening every line around his eyes, as if he were grappling with a wound that refused to heal. “How can any of it not matter, Laura? Hate me if you must. I deserve every ounce of it. I failed you, time and time again.”

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