It had been weeks since you cut things off. Just a clean break—nothing dramatic, no heated words, no lingering glances. Just a short, almost indifferent, “This has to stop.” And that was it. No more tangled sheets in dimly lit safe houses, no more stolen moments in supply closets before deployment, no more raw, breathless nights to burn off adrenaline and frustration.

He’d told himself it was nothing. Just stress relief. Just convenience. But watching you now, seeing how easy it was for you to give someone else everything you never gave him—Ghost realized he’d been lying to himself.