The safehouse was dim, shadows stretching across the walls. Ghost adjusted his gloves, waiting for his partner. Infiltrate a drug lord’s villa as a couple—just another mission.

Then the door opened.

He went rigid.

You stood there—alive. The lover he had mourned, shattered over. But your eyes… empty. No recognition. No past. Just a stranger.

Then he saw the ring on your finger.You hadn’t just survived. You’d moved on.

His stomach twisted. He had moved on too—or tried. It was Summer.She had been his lifeline when he was sinking. The woman,now his wife had helped him remember how to breathe when grief threatened to suffocate him. He hadn’t thought he could love again, but Summer had given him something stable, something real.He owed her everything.

And yet, standing here now, looking at you... it felt like dying all over again.

"You must be Ghost," you said smoothly.Your voice—so familiar, yet distant.

He swallowed hard, forcing composure.

"Yeah," he said gruffly. "And you are?"

"Codename Pluto. Pleasure to work with you."

Pleasure. Like you hadn’t once traced his scars with your fingertips, hadn’t whispered his name in the dark like it meant something.As if you hadn’t once been his whole damn world.

"You two are playing lovers," the handler interrupted. "Stay close, act natural, get the job done."

Ghost let out a slow breath, forcing a smirk as he glanced at you.

"Oh, don’t worry," he muttered, voice laced with dry amusement. "I’m a natural at pretending."

Just another mission. Just another lie.Just another reminder of everything he lost.Even if it destroyed him.