The Captain's Cold Aspen Revenge

For seven years, I funded my husband Gonzalo's PhD. I paid for everything. A week after our wedding, his young "mentee," Kloe, moved in with us, claiming a rare autoimmune disorder made her "fragile."

On our Aspen ski trip, he used my money to buy her an $8,000 handbag. Then, he demanded I give Kloe my high-performance ski jacket because her flimsy one wasn't warm enough.

When I refused, he ripped it off my body.

I slipped on the ice, hitting my head as he walked away with her, leaving me injured and freezing in the snow.

Later that night, he abandoned me again while I was sick in our hotel room, to get a separate room with Kloe. He said they needed to "discuss his academic paper."

But he forgot one crucial detail. I'm not just a wife. I'm Captain Amy Payne, U.S. Army Reserve.

I called my best friend, a manager at the hotel chain. "I need a master key," I told her. "We're about to crash a very important academic discussion."

Chapter 1

Amy Payne POV:

My skin felt sticky, my hair clinging to my neck. Sweat beaded on my forehead, trickling down my temples. The air in our apartment was thick, suffocating. It was mid-July in Austin, and the thermostat read 85 degrees Fahrenheit.

I walked to the thermostat, my fingers already slick with sweat. I pushed the 'down' arrow, watching the numbers tick lower, 84, 83, 82. A small sigh of relief escaped my lips. I just needed it below 80 to feel human again.

The click of the door made me jump. Gonzalo.

His voice cut through the humid air, sharp and accusing. "What do you think you're doing, Amy?"

I turned, wiping a bead of sweat from my brow. "It's boiling in here, Gonzalo. I'm just trying to make it bearable."

He strode towards me, his face tight. "You know Kloe has a condition. She's extremely sensitive to cold. You can't just drop the temperature like that."

My jaw clenched. "It's 85 degrees. Nobody should be sensitive to cold at 85 degrees."

He ignored me, his gaze fixed on the thermostat. "Her autoimmune disorder is severe. It's not just about comfort; it's about her health."

"So, my comfort and health don't matter?" I asked, my voice flat.

"She's a guest, Amy. And she's fragile. We need to accommodate her." He reached over me, his hand covering mine on the control panel. He pushed the 'up' arrow. The numbers climbed back to 85.

I pulled my hand away, heat rushing to my face. "Gonzalo, it's ninety degrees outside. I can barely breathe in here."

A soft cough drifted from the hallway. Kloe emerged, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, her eyes wide and innocent. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Is there trouble because of me?" Her voice was a whisper, laced with fake concern.

"No trouble, Kloe," Gonzalo said immediately, his voice softening. "Amy just forgot how delicate you are."

Kloe offered a weak smile. "My condition, you know. The cold just... it sends me into a flare. Gonzalo is always so understanding."

I watched her, a bitter taste in my mouth. She was playing him like a fiddle.

"Maybe if Amy needs it cooler," Kloe suggested, her gaze flitting to me then quickly away, "she could... find another spot?"

My eyes narrowed. "This is my home, Kloe."

Kloe gasped, a hand flying to her chest. Her lower lip trembled. "Oh, I didn't mean... I just thought maybe for your comfort..." She turned to Gonzalo, a silent plea in her eyes. "Gonzalo?"

He put an arm around her, pulling her close. "She has a point, Amy. Kloe needs to be comfortable."

"Our marriage, Gonzalo. We just got married." My voice was a desperate plea.

"Our wedding was last week," I reminded him, the words feeling hollow. "And you're kicking me out of my own living room for your mentee because she's 'fragile'?"

He flinched, his grip on Kloe loosening slightly. "Okay, okay, let's not make a big deal. She's only staying for a little while, Amy. Just until her apartment is ready."

He looked at me, a forced smile on his face. "We can go to that resort you wanted, just the two of us, after she leaves. A real honeymoon."

I looked at him, trying to find an ounce of sincerity. He always knew how to dangle a carrot. "A resort," I repeated, the word tasting like ash.

"You know I'd never lie to you, Amy," he insisted, his eyes meeting mine, for a second.

I took a deep breath, the anger still a hot knot in my stomach. I pushed it down. I always did. "Fine," I said, my voice tight. "I'm going to change." I needed to get out of these damp clothes, away from all of them.

I stood up, needing to get out of these damp clothes. As I turned to walk to our bedroom, Gonzalo cleared his throat.

"There's one more thing, Amy," he said, avoiding my gaze. "Kloe's condition... she really can't be near any drafts. The guest room faces north, it's naturally cooler. So, if you wouldn't mind... staying in the guest room tonight? So she can have the master."

I stopped dead. My blood ran cold, despite the sweltering heat. "And where will you sleep, Gonzalo?"

Kloe spoke up, her voice small, almost childlike. "I get so scared alone, Gonzalo. With my condition, I just... I get so anxious."

Scared? She was practically a grown woman, a "wellness influencer" with thousands of followers. Did she really think I was that stupid?

Gonzalo quickly stammered, "I'll just sleep on the couch, Amy. Don't worry. I'll be right out here."

My chest felt tight, like a fist was squeezing my lungs. I took another deep breath, trying to control the tremor in my voice. "Or," I suggested, my words slow and deliberate, "Kloe could just share the master bedroom with me. Since Gonzalo is a married man, it would be improper for him to sleep anywhere but in our master bedroom."

Kloe gasped, a hand flying to her chest. "Oh, Amy, I couldn't possibly! I wouldn't want to intrude on your space." She shot a quick, nervous glance at Gonzalo. "And my... my condition... it's just so unpredictable. It wouldn't be fair to you."

"Unpredictable," I scoffed softly, the word barely audible. This woman was something else. Part of me, the part that was still trying to be a good wife, wanted to believe Gonzalo was just being naive. But the other part, the Army Captain part, knew a tactical maneuver when she saw one. This wasn't about health; it was about territory.