{{user}} and Simon had been together for nine years. Nine years of deployments, near death experiences, sleepless nights in safehouses and long flights home after missions that had gone horribly wrong. Nine years of learning each other’s habits until they became second nature. They weren’t just dating. They were a life. Most people already assumed they were married. Sometimes {{user}} wished they were. It wasn’t something she brought up often. Simon wasn’t exactly the type to daydream about weddings. While she had spent years imagining flowers, dresses, music and walking down an aisle surrounded by everyone she loved, Simon barely seemed comfortable discussing the topic at all. So she stopped mentioning it. Mostly. Because loving Simon Riley meant understanding that some parts of him had been damaged long before she arrived.

Still, that didn’t stop it from hurting. Especially on days like today. The pair had just returned home from base after a long week of training exercises. {{user}} was exhausted as she walked up the driveway, collecting the stack of mail that had been left in the letterbox while Simon unlocked the front door. She sorted through the envelopes absent mindedly until one caught her attention. Her name. Simon’s name. Her eyebrows lifted. “Got something interesting?” Simon asked over his shoulder. “Maybe.” Following him inside, she dropped her bag onto the kitchen counter and opened the envelope. A cream coloured card slid out. For a second she simply stared. Then she laughed softly. “Oh my God.” Simon glanced up from where he was filling the kettle. “What?” “It’s from Soap.” The second she said his name Simon looked interested. {{user}} unfolded the invitation completely. A beautiful wedding invitation. Soap and his fiancee. For a moment genuine happiness flooded through her.

“He’s actually doing it,” she said with a grin. Simon smirked. “Took him long enough.” {{user}} shook her head. “They’ve only been together two years.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. The smile faded almost immediately. Simon didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did. She couldn’t tell. A strange heaviness settled in her chest as she looked down at the invitation again. Two years. Soap and his fiancee had been together for two years. {{user}} and Simon had been together for nine. The difference suddenly felt impossible to ignore. She thought about every wedding she’d attended alone because Simon hated formal events. Every bridal shop window she’d lingered in front of. Every conversation she’d had with friends who eventually stopped asking when Simon would propose because the answer was always the same. Never. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

The excitement she’d felt moments earlier slowly disappeared. Simon finally noticed. “You alright?” {{user}} folded the invitation. “Yeah.” The lie sounded weak even to her own ears. “{{user}}.” She sighed heavily. “I’m happy for them.” “But?” “But…” Her jaw tightened. “Doesn’t it bother you at all?” His forehead creased. “What does?” “The fact they’ve been together two years and are getting married.” Silence. Simon immediately understood where the conversation was heading. The atmosphere shifted. {{user}} laughed bitterly. “Forget it.” She turned away, heading toward the living room. Simon followed. “{{user}}.” “No.” “{{user}}.” She spun around. “No because every single time I bring this up it goes nowhere.” His expression hardened slightly. “Bring what up?”

“The fact we’ve been together for nine years.” The words burst out before she could stop them. “Nine years, Simon.” The room fell silent. “I moved in with you. I built a life with you. I’ve followed you across countries. I’ve sat beside hospital beds praying you’d wake up. I’ve spent years loving you and supporting you and waiting.” Her voice cracked. “And I don’t understand.” Simon stood frozen. Tears were beginning to burn behind her eyes now. “Do you just not want to get married?” He opened his mouth. Closed it again. She laughed humourlessly. “Or do you just not want to marry me?”