"Steve, did you dream about that man again?"
With her arm around his, Peggy looked up at her boyfriend. Her eyes were full of concern, as though she already knew the truth.
At her words, the Captain's steps faltered. Covering his face, he continued forward and answered in a low voice:
"Yes, I dreamed about Godfather again. This time, I broke his arm again. I'm awful. He died with his eyes open. And he even bought me a beef hamburger I liked. But I let him down... sob..."
Perhaps only in front of Peggy could he reveal even this small measure of weakness. He let out whimpers like an injured animal, his body trembling violently.
"I understand that this caused you severe psychological trauma, but it happened decades ago." Peggy rubbed his back, her warm little hand patting him gently as if soothing a child. "If Mr. Wilson is watching from heaven, he definitely wouldn't blame you. Don't you think?"
Hearing that, Steve nodded instinctively.
Peggy had known Godfather too. Back then, Godfather had flown a transport plane through the battlefield himself to deliver supplies and provisions to the Strategic Scientific Reserve. He had even given Peggy a pair of red long johns.
Yet thinking of that, something that should have been funny only made Steve even sadder.
The corridor inside the spacecraft was not particularly spacious, and the conference room was not far from Steve's quarters. Before he knew it, they had arrived. The door automatically opened after detecting the authorized personnel, and Peggy helped him back to the bedside.
Too afraid to lie down, Steve merely sat on the bed, rubbing his face with both hands. After calming himself down, he said:
"I can never forget that day, and I can never forgive my own mistakes. I let