Love Began with the First Meeting

"We have to get up early tomorrow to get to the airport," Molly said while covering Mark with a quilt. "You should sleep quickly, okay?"

"Mommy, aren't you going to sleep now?" Mark asked.

Molly paused and said with a faint smile, "The house is really dirty. I have to clean it before going to sleep. You go to sleep first, and I will join you soon." Mark nodded and said, "Good night, Mommy."

"Good night, Mark." Molly kissed him on his forehead. She turned on the light at the head of the bed and adjusted it to a moderate brightness before leaving the room.

Molly looked at the heavy dust everywhere. She rolled up her sleeves and fetched a bucket of water to begin cleaning. She had met Steven in a rush several times since he had come back. But after that, he hadn't been in touch with her. During the time when Brian was in a coma, she hadn't left the hospital at all and she hadn't called Steven even once. She had no idea where he was or what he was doing. Her hands gradually stopped moving. She felt sad and guilty. She had not been a good wife, and now she realized that she was not a good daughter either.

She took a deep breath and put a restraint on her tears. This was not the time to fall prey to her sadness.

When she finished cleaning the living room, she walked towards her parents' bedroom with a bucket of water in her hand. She pushed open the door and a heavy smell of dust overwhelmed her all of a sudden. She looked at the dusty bed. It obviously hadn't been slept in for at least months. She put the bucket of water aside, mumbling to herself in confusion, "Where has Papa gone? What's he doing?"

Fishing out the cellphone from her pocket, Molly looked at its screen and saw that it was past one o'clock at night. She thought for a while and finally dialed Steven's number because she was worried for him now.

But the call didn't go through. Instead, a mechanical voice said, 'The subscriber you have called cannot be reached at the moment. Please call later or leave a message after the beep.'

Molly's eyebrows knotted tightly. Her eyes swept around the room again. And that was when she saw the piece of neatly folded paper under the quilt, which was half visible.

She placed the phone in her pocket and strode towards it in a hurry. She raised the quilt and picked up the paper. She could hardly breathe because of the sudden tension which had built up in her.

For some unknown reason, her hands began quivering. She slowly unfolded the paper, immediately recognizing Steven's handwriting, which she was so familiar with.

'Molly, I don't know if you'll ever find this letter. In fact, I'm not sure if I ever want you to find it. But I'm leaving it for you anyway. You finding this letter probably means that I'm finally together with your mom once again in another world.'

As she read those words, Molly's eyes widened and her heart rose to her throat. She was too aggrieved to breathe; she felt like she was choking.

She kept reading the letter with shaky hands, 'You have called me Papa for the past twenty years. Although you found out later that I'm not your biological father, you still lovingly called me Papa. Sometimes at night when all was still, I imagined how good it would have been if you were really my daughter. If you were, then perhaps, I would have laid down my plans to rest, and perhaps everything that has happened to us would never have happened.

Molly, please forgive me for using you for my own selfish needs. Please forgive me for my failure to protect you while I tried to achieve my goals.

I have never told you about my past, about what had happened way before you were born. I guess I can tell you everything now, about my love for the military and the sorrow branded in my blood and bones.

I had always wanted to be a soldier ever since my childhood. Perhaps it was so because of the influence of my parents, who were martyrs. I had sworn upon their gravestones that I would devote my heart and soul to my country and leave every drop of my blood on the territory of my beloved motherland, just as they had done.

I joined the army as soon as I was old enough to be conscripted, where I took the examination and went to the military academy. I was at the peak of my youth and did everything in my power to fulfill my promise to my parents. After graduating from the military academy as a Captain, I was transferred to the best reconnaissance company in the army. I was only twenty-three years old at that time.

I was high-spirited and vigorous. I worked hard with the hope of being the most trenchant edge of the sharpest knife. Molly, perhaps you wouldn't understand why I had such a feeling at that time, but the greatest passion of my life was to join the sharp troop.

After working as the instructor of the reconnaissance company for a year, I attended the selection for special troops. Three months later, I was selected as one of the seven members of the Red Goshawk Force from more than three hundred candidates. I cried aloud, not just for myself, but also for my parents. I chose to walk in their path, carrying on my shoulders their regrets and hopes.

All seven members of the Red Goshawk Force had overcome many difficulties together during the three months before we got together to make up a team. It was said that our force had surpassed all the other new forces in the beginning. My team included not only the best scout in the whole army, but also the best sniper. And let me say this with pride, it even included an excellent military officer for special operations.

The seven of us lived under the same roof and ate at the same table. We went on missions together and executed tasks as a team. We were closer than family.

But I lost them all. All six of them died because of one wrong command. And that command had come from me. It was my fault that they were buried in a foreign country. So it was my duty as their team member-as their friend and brother, to bring them back to their country to rest in peace.'

Tears rolled down from Molly's cheeks and fell on the letter, while her hands quivered slightly. She was reminded of Fly, and she could hardly dare to go on reading. When Steven had written this letter, he wouldn't have known that Fly had told her about everything. She looked at the ceiling to avoid more tears from falling into her father's letter. She took a deep breath and bit her lip. Controlling her fear, she lowered her eyes once again to continue reading. As she had expected, his following words were roughly consistent with what Fly had told her. 000000000000