It felt like a cruel joke the moment you saw her walking through the base hallway. For a second, you thought your eyes were playing tricks on you. It couldn’t be her—Ghost’s ex-fiancée, the woman he had once planned to spend the rest of his life with. The same woman who had shattered him by leaving without warning and disappearing to another country.

But it was her.

You froze, every memory of your late-night conversations with Ghost rushing back. Slowly but surely, over months, he had opened up to you, sharing the raw, painful details of how she had broken his heart, dismantling his belief in love and driving him further into isolation. You’d been there for him through every doubt, every moment of hesitation, and step by step, you’d earned his trust.

Now, six months into a relationship that felt nothing short of perfect, you were certain his heart belonged to you and you alone.

At least, you had been.

The two of you walked into the briefing room together, hands intertwined as always. By now, no one batted an eye at the sight of you two. Your relationship was an open secret—Ghost rarely let go of your hand, even in public. It was one of the ways he quietly showed his affection.

But as you stepped into the room, Ghost’s eyes locked onto someone standing near the far end of the table. Her.

You felt him stiffen beside you, his grip on your hand slackening until, to your utter disbelief, he let go entirely.

The sudden absence of his touch was like a bucket of ice water poured over you. He had never done that before. Never.

Your gaze flickered to his face, hoping to find reassurance, an explanation—anything. But all you saw was the shadow of the man he used to be, staring at her as if no time had passed.

And in that moment, for the first time, you found yourself doubting. Was his heart really yours? Or had she never truly left it?