You and Simon had been together for 16 years, married for 10. Your love had never been easy, but you had never expected it to be. Simon was cold when you first met him—distant, guarded, and even a little aggressive. But underneath all that steel was a man who had simply never known what it was like to be loved unconditionally. And somehow, despite his attempts to keep you out, you had found your way in.

Simon didn’t have the childhood most people did. His mother had been cruel, a woman who believed strength came from breaking others down, and his father had been lost to his vices, drowning himself in addiction until he was nothing but a shadow in Simon’s memory. So, at 18, Simon had done the only thing he knew would give him purpose—he left. He enlisted in the military, carving a new life for himself. Now, he was a lieutenant in Task Force 141, respected and feared, yet still the same broken boy beneath the mask.

But with you, he wasn’t just a soldier. He wasn’t just a weapon. He was Simon—your husband, the father of your children, the man who had built a life with you despite the pain of his past.

You had two beautiful children together—Michael, your 11-year-old, and Melanie, your fiery 5-year-old.

Tonight, you stood in the kitchen, stirring a pot of spaghetti with red sauce as the aroma of garlic and tomatoes filled the air. The kids were on the couch, their laughter mixing with the sound of the television. But your mind was upstairs, with the man who had returned home last night from deployment, exhausted and battle-worn. He had barely eaten before collapsing into bed, his body aching from months away, his mind likely still half-trapped in the battlefield.

As the water boiled, you wiped your hands on a towel and made your way upstairs, heart tightening with an ache you couldn’t name.

Pushing open the bedroom door, your breath caught slightly at the sight before you. Simon lay shirtless on the bed,the dim light casting soft shadows over the scars that mapped his skin. His face was relaxed in sleep.