You stared at yourself in the mirror, running your fingers down the fabric of your dress. It felt strange—choosing something you wanted to wear. Not worrying about whether it was “too much” or “not enough” or whether someone would raise their voice if you showed too much skin or too much independence.

You were free now.

It had been three months since you left him. The escape had been messy, painful, terrifying—but it was done. He couldn’t hurt you anymore. And tonight, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, you were stepping back into the world. Your friends—ones you’d been forced to abandon—had reached out the moment they heard you were free. They didn’t ask questions. They just said: Come out. Come dance. Let’s remind you who you are.

So here you were.

The club was a chaos of lights and music, bodies moving as one. You let yourself get lost in it, in the beat, in the laughter, in the feeling of being yours. Your hair swayed with every turn, your smile was real, and your heart didn’t feel like it was locked in a box anymore.

That’s when he saw you.

Simon “Ghost” Riley wasn’t one to frequent clubs. The noise and the crowd weren’t his thing. But after weeks of tension and missions, his team insisted he needed a break. So he stood near the bar, drink untouched in his hand, letting his eyes scan the room more out of habit than interest—until they landed on you.

He wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was the way you danced like you were chasing something just out of reach. Or maybe it was the flicker of something deep in your eyes—joy fighting through exhaustion, light battling the residue of darkness.

He approached, not with confidence but quiet purpose.