Under His Eye - A Sam and Colby Fan Fiction

Commander Brock 3

Commander Brocks POV

I had broken so many rules and my wife, Catriona, could sense the unease when I was around her and Ofcole, who I learned was called Chevy before New America. She was my handmaid and the way I felt for her was illegal.. It goes against everything our country stood for. Our affair was dangerous and could never be found out.

Every stolen moment we shared was a risk, but the fire that ignited between us was too powerful to ignore. I often found myself in deep thought, trying to reconcile my conflicting emotions. On one hand, I was devoted to my wife and the life we had built together in New America; a life based on the strict principles and rules that our society demanded. On the other hand, I could not ignore what blossomed between Ofcole and me - a love that threatened everything but felt so reborn from what I used to know.

As the day wore on, I couldn't help but notice the subtle changes around our home. Catriona seemed distant and distracted at times, focusing more on her duties as a wife and mother than on our relationship. Ofcole was more withdrawn than usual, consumed with her responsibilities as a handmaid and plagued by the guilt of our clandestine affair. I carried on trying to be the supportive husband Catriona deserved while keeping my love for Ofcole hidden deep within my heart.

In the evening, Catriona prepared dinner while Ofcole knitted in her corner by the window. The tension in the room was palpable, but we all did our best to keep up appearances. My heart raced when I saw Ofcole's fingers tremble slightly as she held onto her knitting needle and how her gaze would fleetingly meet mine when no one else was looking.

After dinner, Catriona announced that she was feeling tired and decided to retire early for the night. I knew it was my opportunity to see Ofcole alone; however brief it may be. We knew the risks involved, yet we couldn't resist stealing a forbidden embrace in the shadows of our home.

I quietly left my bedroom and went to where Ofcole's room situated down the hallway. The door creaked softly as I pushed it open, hoping not to draw any unwanted attention. There she stood, the forbidden beauty, her eyes blurred by tears and her breath trembling as we locked gaze. We knew we didn't have much time, but in the brief grasp of our passionate hug, I whispered how much I loved her and how I wished things were different.

As quickly as our secret meeting started, it ended. It was time to return to our separate lives, and we did so with heavy hearts. I longed for the day when we might be free of the constraints that held us prisoner and allowed ourselves to love without fear of retribution.

The next day dawned and with it came the harsh reminder of our suffocating reality. As was customary in New America, every morning began with a communal prayer led by the town's officials. Catriona, Ofcole, and I walked together to the gathering place in silence, each lost in our own thoughts.

As we arrived at the prayer site, I took my place among the other men while Catriona and Ofcole kneeled a few rows behind me amongst the women. The familiar drone of prayers filled the morning air, each solemn word a stark reminder of the oppressive regime we lived under.

I tried my best to concentrate on my prayers, but my thoughts were consumed by Ofcole. The knowledge that she was just steps away yet entirely out of reach was agonizing. We shared a brief glance, allowing our eyes to meet for a moment before returning our focus to our prayers.

Following the prayers, life resumed as usual. Men went about their duties and women retreated back to their homes to resume their housekeeping tasks. I returned to my occupation as an overseer at the local factory, where I supervised and organized workers responsible for manufacturing various necessities for New America as well as goods for export.

As I walked into the factory, my mind raced with thoughts of last night's stolen embrace with Ofcole. The memory provided both solace and pain; while it comforted me in knowing that our love was worth risking everything for, it pained me that we were forced into secrecy when all I wanted was for us to be free.

The day wore on as endless hours of tedious labor unfolded before me. Despite the monotonous rhythm of machinery drowning out all semblance of an inner voice, my thoughts always found their way back to her.

Meanwhile, at home, Catriona continued with her domestic duties, feeling the weight of our crumbling relationship. As she went about her chores, she couldn't help but sense that something was terribly wrong between us – a divide that was only growing with each passing day. The fact Ofcole was pregnant is the only thing I believe that kept us together.

As the sun began to set, I left the factory and made my way home. Weary from the day's work and the weight of my secret, I trudged through the streets of New America, eager for a semblance of peace in the familiarity of home. Little did I know, more unrest awaited me there.

Upon arriving home, I found Catriona waiting for me in our shared study. Her hands were clasped together anxiously as she stood by the window. The room was filled with a tension that felt like thick smoke, choking us both. She gestured for me to sit down after closing the door behind me.

With a deep breath, she began to voice her concerns. "I can sense that something is wrong between us," she said. "Our marriage has not been the same since Ofcole arrived, and I fear that whatever is happening between you two is tearing our family apart."

I struggled to find words that would reassure her without betraying my secret love for Ofcole. "Catriona," I began hesitantly, "of course things have changed; we are all adjusting to new roles in a challenging society. But please know that my commitment to you remains strong."

She regarded me with doubt flickering in her eyes, tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks. "I hope that is true," she whispered, biting her lower lip as she tried to restrain her emotions.

We sat there in silence for an agonizing moment before hearing a knock at the door—Ofcole with an announcement that dinner was ready.

The three of us gathered around the table as Catriona said a quiet prayer, her eyes closed tightly as if trying to hold back further questions or worries. The meal was eaten in strained silence – Ofcole focusing on serving us both while maintaining an air of calm indifference.

After we finished our meal and said goodnight to Catriona – who ventured off to bed with a still-troubled expression – I found Ofcole waiting in the hallway. Her eyes were filled with a mix of apprehension and longing, our mutual desire eroding away any remaining caution.

"I need to see you alone," she whispered feverishly, her voice barely audible.