Under a Different Sun

The day my wife gave birth to my foster brother's child, my entire family waited tensely outside the delivery room.

They were not concerned about whether Sheila Rogers would make it through labor safely.

They were worried I might turn up and make a scene.

My mother kept glancing at the elevator. "He won't try to come up the stairs, will he?"

My father was on the phone with hospital security again and again. "Yes, about six foot three. Have you seen him?"

My brother stayed coiled and ready, fists clenched. "If my brother causes trouble, I'll lay down my life to protect Sheila and my son."

However, from the start of labor to the moment Sheila delivered safely and both mother and child were declared healthy, I never showed up.

Reclining on the hospital bed, Sheila took out her phone and asked my mother to call me.

"Tell Hank not to cause any trouble," she said calmly. "If he's willing to be the child's godfather, we can still live our lives together."

She felt absolutely no guilt toward me.

From her perspective, she had merely granted my parents their long-standing wish for a grandchild.

What fault could there possibly be in that?

What no one knew was that I had never planned to go to the hospital.

At that very moment, I was training beneath the scorching sun.

All for a single reason: in one month, I would deploy with my unit to Safrana on a peacekeeping mission.

Once I left, there would be little chance of ever coming back.

Sheila Rogers was in the hospital for a whole week before she finally got to come home.

I had just finished up at the training field and when I opened the front door, there they were, my whole family, huddled around the couch.

"Wow, look at this little one. His eyes and nose are just like Sheila's, but that mouth is a spitting image of John's."

"Mom, the baby's too little to tell," John Freeman said with a grin.

"Sheila, you've been through so much."

John gently kissed Sheila's forehead, his eyes shining with love.

Dad was sitting off to the side, his eyes all wrinkled up from smiling so much.

"How can you not see it? I tell you, it's a good thing this baby is yours. If Hank had a kid, there wouldn't be much hope for the poor thing."

He used to be so proud of me for joining the army.

Even though I left without knowing when I would come back, Dad always said that a man had to be ready to protect his country.

However, coming home now, it felt as if everything had changed.

Looking at the family of five, so full of happiness, all I could feel was a sour twist in my heart and a sense of how silly it all was.

Four years back, I left for the army right after Sheila and I got married. I could not stand the thought of her waiting for me, so young and alone.

If I did not make it back, she would become a widow before we even had a chance at life together.

I tried to get her to divorce me, and to go find happiness somewhere else, but Sheila just grabbed my hand, her eyes brimming with tears, and would not hear of it.

"Hank, do you really see me as someone who can't handle being alone?”

"My husband is out there fighting for our country. How could I leave you, especially now?”

"I'll look after your folks and wait for you to come home."

The day I left, Mom, Dad, and Sheila took me to the train station.

Mom and Dad were trying so hard not to cry.

They held my hands, looking into my face with eyes that seemed cloudy with worry, their lips quivering.

"Hank, don't you worry. Your mom and I will be right here at home, waiting for you to come back."

"That's right, Hank. You've got nothing to fret about. Your dad and I are so proud of you."

I had been on the brink of life and death more times than I could count.

Each time, it was the thought of them that brought me back.

However, two months ago, when I came home after leaving the army, I walked into a totally different world.