A Comeback in the 1970s: The Mixed-Race Beauty Is a Military Industry Powerhouse

She has gray-green eyes, like an elegant, sly Persian cat, or a pool of spring water whose depths cannot be fathomed.

He wears a crisp military overcoat and is as handsome as a sculpture, a well-bred, politically reliable scion of a high-ranking family from the military compound.

On a winter night in 1975, he corners her at the black market. "Come fix the machine tomorrow."

In early spring of 1976, he sets out with her. "Would you be willing to leave with me?"

In the sweltering summer of 1977, he stands before her. "I'll take responsibility for her."

In golden autumn of 1978, he holds her hand as he writes. "Have you made up your mind? No regrets?"

In 1980, their daughter is born.

Their daughter has gray-green eyes, just like her.

He awkwardly cradles the baby, moving so carefully, as if afraid of hurting her. He is just about to smile, but then his brow furrows.

She raises an eyebrow. "Having regrets?"

He looks up at her, a little aggrieved. "I do."

Then he lowers his head to look at the baby in his arms, his voice muffled. "I regret not meeting you sooner. Then we could have had a few more years alone together."

She freezes for a moment, then laughs until tears gather at the corners of her eyes.

Those are the closest thing to a love confession he has ever said.