Your story with Simon began in the raging sea of war. You were soldiers. But not just on the battlefield.

Always shoulder to shoulder. Always together. You were ready to die for each other. Kill for each other. And by God, you did. You were the ones who knew light and dark together. You saw each other in all states of mind, in all situations. There was a silent promise tangled in the bedsheets. A promise of a future. Of life. Together.

But war doesn't just change bodies, it breaks souls. You grew exponentially further apart. Less touch. More silence. And eventually, something broke. Quietly, without shouting or scandal. You said the end of your story had come. And he agreed.

You left TF 141 the same day. You knew you couldn't stand to be around a stranger you knew everything about. But who knew it wasn't the end?

You came back. For one mission. Just one day. Price said your skills would help them more than ever. And your sense of duty to this team came before your own pain.

You stepped onto the base where your story once began. The dust, the sound of helicopters, the familiar smell of iron and blood. Everything was the same, as if time had stopped here. As if that damned day had been erased from history.

Price handed you the keys to your locker. The same one. It hurt your heart to see it. Yeah, maybe you're sentimental, but this base held too many painful memories. More than you had seen in the war.

But who knew it wasn't the last blow?

Opening your locker, there was your old uniform. Your balaclava. And on top of it, a small roll of cloth.

You didn't leave it there.

And as you unwrapped it, your heart thumped like it had never thumped in any fight.

The ring. A wedding ring.

Soft footsteps sounded behind you. It was that damned voice you'd recognize in a thousand years. Simon's voice.

"Sorry. I should have taken it, but Price wouldn't give me a key to your locker."

The realisation hit you right in the gut.

He was gonna propose to you the day you broke up.