He Saved His "Work Wife", I Saved Myself

Chapter 2

Five days after the injury, I went back to the police department to file my statement.

The fresh bandages on my left arm pulled tight against the wound. The slightest movement sent pain shooting through me. My sick leave certificate was crumpled in my pocket, damp from my grip.

As soon as I walked into the lobby, a few familiar colleagues gathered around.

"How bad is it?"

"You look terrible. Why aren't you resting a couple more days?"

I shook my head. "Surface shrapnel. They already took it out. I'm fine."

Before I'd finished speaking, rapid footsteps sounded from the hallway.

Arthur strode toward me. The other officers parted to let him through.

He stopped in front of me. His eyes swept over the heavy gauze on my arm, and his brows immediately drew together.

"Why didn't you evacuate according to the plan?" he demanded.

He was still blaming me. Not asking about my injuries.

I looked up at him. "Why didn't you come for me in time?"

The question caught him off-guard. His voice went clipped. "The dealer was already suspicious. The moment you sensed something was off, you should've found a safe route on your own. Elena was the point person. If she'd gotten hurt, the whole case would've been compromised."

He lowered his voice, impatience bleeding through. "You're civilian staff. You don't have field judgment. Don't throw a tantrum in the middle of an operation."

The air around us went still.

A few colleagues exchanged glances and quietly retreated to their desks.

I looked at this man I'd been in love with for three years. I opened my mouth. In the end, I swallowed the argument.

"I understand." I nodded.

Arthur visibly relaxed at those words.

He patted my uninjured right shoulder. "Get your statement done first. Once the case is closed, I'll make it up to you."

Just then, Elena came around the corner with two cups of hot coffee.

She casually pressed one into Arthur's hand and set the other on my desk.

"Oh, it was such chaos back there. I couldn't keep track of you either." She leaned against the edge of my desk and beamed at me. "You're not mad at us, are you?"

I ignored her.

Arthur had already turned away. He was standing side by side with Elena, the two of them diving straight into case talk.

"The perimeter on Warehouse 3 was too thin..."

"I scoped out the vents. There's a blind spot."

Back and forth, all tactical details, perfectly excluding me.

I finished my statement and headed toward the archives room.

The break room door near the hallway corner was half open.

"Arthur and Elena, that golden partnership really is something else. They racked up major credit again."

"Yeah. But that Chloe from records got it rough. I heard she almost lost the use of her arm. What was a desk worker even doing out there?"

I kept walking straight to my desk.

That night, at the apartment.

On the dining table was a tropical island travel brochure. I'd picked it up from a travel agency two months ago, planning for when Arthur took leave, so we could finally take the belated second-anniversary honeymoon.

But I didn't want to go anymore.