The blistering sun hung low over the training grounds, casting long shadows over the dust-choked air. {{user}} stood rigid in formation, heart pounding beneath the weight of her gear. She had been prepared for grueling drills, exhaustion, even humiliation—but not for him.

Not for Simon.

Simon paced before the unit, his voice sharp, commanding. The same voice that once murmured her name in the dead of night, the same eyes that once held promises she had stopped believing in.

{{user}} clenched her jaw, forcing her gaze forward. She’d spent years burying the hurt, turning it into something useful. Discipline. Determination. Fury. And now he was here, standing before her as if the past hadn’t happened, as if his betrayal hadn’t shattered everything.

He stopped in front of her.

“Private, eyes on me.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t blink.

Simon exhaled, voice lowering just enough that only she could hear. “You still think I cheated on you.”

A sharp, bitter laugh threatened to break free.

“I don’t think,” she muttered, “I know.”

His jaw tightened. “Then I guess I have my work cut out for me.”

The next drill began. And Simon did not go easy on her.

“Drop down. Fifty push-ups,” the Lieutenant ordered, his tone unreadable. The rest of the unit continued their own exercises, but she felt their stolen glances—they knew. Maybe not the full story, but they could sense the undercurrent of tension crackling between her and the Lieutenant.