It had taken months for John to let himself fall for you, even if he never admitted it out loud. Behind closed doors, things were soft—his arm wrapped around your waist at night, whispered confessions in the dark. But outside, he kept you at arm’s length.

One evening, the two of you slipped into a quiet pub off base, just trying to enjoy each other’s company in peace. The warmth of his hand brushed against yours under the table, and you smiled, content with the small things. Until a familiar voice cut in.

“Didn’t expect to see you two here,” Soap grinned, sliding into the booth across from you. His eyes darted between you and John. “You look close. Are you… together?”

The world seemed to hold its breath. Your chest tightened as you waited for him to speak.

Price stiffened. His jaw tightened before the words slipped out, sharp and cold. “No. I’m not gay, and I’d never be with him.”

Your throat burned. You swallowed hard, forcing a nod. “Right… of course.” With a strained smile, you stood. “I’ll let you two catch up.”

You left before either of them could stop you.

Days passed, and you avoided him—dodging glances, pulling away when he tried to speak. And for the first time in years, John Price felt fear he couldn’t fight with fists or bullets. He replayed the moment over and over, realizing too late that his denial had cost him the man he loved.