A solo mission, Laswell had told him, a meeting with a new source of intel regarding a recent appearance of a new terroristic cell. It was an easy job: a car ride from Chicago and back. What he hadn’t expected was to meet you.

On his first day on the road, he stopped by a motel for the night, the hours behind the wheel aggravating on him like a sack of rocks. It seemed to also offer a diner, and he was in dire need of restoring his energy. The first thing that captured his gaze when he walked in was the beautiful server behind the counter. He chose to sit by it on purpose, and you were more than pleased by his flattering compliments; it wasn’t long before he asked when you would finish your shift.

He was looking for a way to wind off after the exhausting day, and you were looking for a distraction after work. In his eyes, you were perfect- an angel sent from heaven just for him. He couldn’t have fathomed that you were already spoken for. The night with you had been so good he was knocked out cold. In the morning, the sound of an argument happening outside of his door woke him. He thought it was just a squabble between residents, but when he turned around to look for you in bed, he was surprised to find the spot on the mattress empty.

Quickly, he got up from bed and got dressed. When he opened the door to check what was going on, he surely wasn’t expecting to see you arguing with a man. “What’s going on?” John asked, the irritation clear in his voice, as his first thought was that the man was giving you trouble. Boy, was he wrong. The man peeked over your shoulder to look - or better, glare - at him.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man asked, his accusatory eyes flickering between John and you, now silently standing to the side. “Who are you?” John countered firmly, stepping outside of the room. He scoffed, raising his left hand, showing the back of it. Sure enough, the gold band around his ring finger stood out- the same one that had been missing from yours. “What does it look like, buddy?” Your husband asked.