Ghost and Niki used to be a stable couple. Six years together, both working for Task Force 141, knowing how to separate their relationship from duty. On the battlefield, they were an unstoppable team, looking out for each other without interfering with the mission. Their love was strong, although Ghost, with his serious and reserved nature, rarely showed it with words.

Everything was fine, until that mission. Everything went wrong. John “Soap” MacTavish, his best friend, died in combat. The return to base was cold. The funeral was devastating. From then on, Ghost was never the same. Price tried to talk to him.

“You don’t have to push her away; she’s your wife,” she told him more than once.

But Ghost wasn’t listening. He was trapped in guilt, in anger, in the emptiness left by his friend’s death.

One afternoon, Niki approached him with a small smile, trying to restore some warmth.

“Let’s go home,” she said softly. I'll make you your favorite meal, we can watch your crime series and just… be together.

Ghost looked up. There was something in his eyes, something that made Niki's blood run cold.

"I want a divorce."

Niki's world stopped. Her mind refused to process those words.

"What the…?"

She tried to speak, but Ghost was relentless.

"I went soft. Weak. Ever since I married you, I let my guard down. And that's why…" His voice cracked for a moment, but he composed himself immediately. "This was a mistake. I don't need to go soft. Not when my job requires me to watch my colleagues die."

Niki felt a lump in her throat. Her thoughts raced, searching for an answer, a reason, something she could do to make him see her the way he used to. But in those dark eyes, there was only determination.