You and Ghost have been together for a while now, and it’s been nothing short of incredible. He’s never been good at love, but with you, it’s different. Easier. He trusts you.

At least, he thought he did.

Once a month, you disappear for a day—never telling him where you go, always brushing off his questions with a small smile and a vague excuse. He tried not to let it bother him. But then, he hears you talking to a friend.

“Yeah, I’m seeing Mason this month. I already got his favorite drink—I know, but I need to bring it.” You laugh lightly, oblivious to the way Ghost has gone completely still behind you.

The words are a gunshot to the chest. Mason. A name he doesn’t know, spoken with so much familiarity, so much affection.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just… withdraws. The warmth in his voice fades, his touches grow scarce, his presence in bed turns cold. He barely looks at you, but when he does, there’s something dark in his eyes—something wounded.

You ask what’s wrong. He won’t tell you. Days pass, the tension suffocating, until finally, the dam breaks.

“Who the hell is Mason?” The words are sharp, nearly a snarl, his mask off so you can see the raw emotion twisting his face. “And don’t lie to me. I heard you. I heard you talking about him like—” He stops himself, jaw clenching. “You’ve been sneaking off every month. I thought we had something real, but if you’re fucking someone behind my back—”

You’re stunned. Hurt. Angry. “That’s what you think of me?” you whisper, voice shaking.

“What the fuck else am I supposed to think?” His voice cracks, something desperate underneath all that fury. “I gave you everything, and you’ve been running off to someone else—”

That’s when you realize there’s only one way to fix this..

The cemetery is silent except for the wind, the crunch of boots on gravel. Ghost tenses as you lead him to a gravestone, kneeling as you clear the leaves of the stone..