As colleagues emerged from the station, Jacob instinctively turned off his phone.

Denny threw an arm around his shoulder.

"Hey! Haven't seen Gwynne in a while. Wasn't she always your shadow?"

Jacob forced a smile, "She must be on vacation."

"Aren't you worried? Haven't called her once?"

Jacob scoffed, "She's tougher than anyone. She can handle herself."

After the colleagues left, the captain walked up to Jacob.

"I saw those missed calls. Still fighting?"

Jacob remained silent.

The issue between us wasn't just a quarrel; it was a matter of life and death.

The captain, having witnessed many farewells in his career, shared his wisdom.

"When I was young, I fought with a close friend over something trivial. We never made up, and that night he died on duty.

If I could turn back time, I would have cherished our time together, not spilled drinks on his grave."

This was the captain's burden, a memory that haunted him, a knot of anguish that had festered for years.

The peace of one side is often purchased with the sacrifice of countless lives and bodies.

Seeing Jacob still remain silent, the captain sighed.

"Actually, Gwynne had her own burdens. With parents who were heroes, she couldn't allow herself to be mediocre."

"So sometimes it's not that she was too flashy or seeking attention; perhaps the weight she carried is beyond our imagination."

Watching the usually carefree captain speak so earnestly brought tears to my eyes.

Jacob, however, just shook his head.

"It's not that. I just didn't want to talk to her. Her messages were always pointless.

I was tired of it."

The captain patted Jacob's shoulder.

"Life is short. Don't let regret consume you."

"I won't," Jacob replied crisply.

How could he regret it? We had been together for so long, yet we didn't even have a single photo to prove our love.

On the day we were supposed to take wedding photos, he had to rush off for a mission right after putting on his suit.

Being in the same field, I understood.

I thought there would always be another chance, but some opportunities are lost forever.

I thought I was good at reading people, but ended up choosing the one who hurt me the most.

Jacob entered the house, now dark and devoid of the once-bustling figure.

Shirts still hung on the balcony, untouched.

The food on the table had molded over. Moonlight traced Jacob's solitary silhouette.

The phone rang; it was Barbara.

Jacob answered mechanically.

Barbara's voice was tearful and slurred with alcohol.

"Jacob, I miss you."

"Barbara, you're drunk. Get some rest..."

"Jacob, if I jump from here, would it be dramatic enough?" Barbara interrupted.

Jacob's eyes widened. "Where are you? Tell me!"

My spirit followed Jacob as he sped through the streets, reaching 120 mph.

Was she that important to him?