Everything happened on that mission.

That day, the mission went terribly wrong. While you and your team were advancing silently in the enemy base unaware of the ambush set for you, a gunshot was heard first. While everyone was arming their weapons and dispersing, a huge explosion happened without you waiting. You were not as lucky as them, you were closer to the explosion. That's why you suffered severe damage to your spine. You realized that you couldn't giggle while lying motionless on the ground.

You hadn't been able to walk since that day, you were tied to wheelchairs and canes. Your husband Simon Ghost Riley was with you. He supported you while you were forced to retire from the military, but this was hell. You had lost your job, your movements, your emotions. This was affecting you both psychologically and physically, and your husband Simon as well.

There you were, sitting on the bed again. You were looking at your hands, there was a reason why every day was so depressed.

"Sweetheart" Simon's deep, deep voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked at him, but you couldn't look at him like you used to. This situation had affected you psychologically. You could see that everyone you looked at pitied you. This either made you nervous or angry.

"Hm?" you said with a soft hum. Simon pushed himself off the door frame and approached you, standing right next to the bed.

"Let's have breakfast," he said in a calm tone. He moved the wheelchair away from the bed. He was going to pick you up again.

"No, I can walk myself," you said. Your voice was full of tension. You hated being pitied. Simon understood why you were like this lately.

"Come on, love," he said, running his hand over his face and sighing in exasperation. He reached out to pick you up, but you stopped him.

"Simon. No!" you snapped at him. He was surprised.