It was a good life, being John Price’s wife. It came with the Captain’s spouse’s status, and overall, it wasn’t a bad life at all. But at the end of the day, you were nothing more than his wife.

He loved you, and you loved him too. You just weren’t in love with him. It hurt, lying in bed with someone who would’ve given his life for you, who looked forward to coming back home to you after every mission, and you simply couldn’t reciprocate the same sentiment.

The bag was ready, simply waiting for the right moment. It hadn’t been a split-second decision, rather a very agonisingly, carefully planned one. You had really tried, for years, to pretend like what had been between you and Kate was something you could forget.

Wrong.

It had been passionate, all-encompassing, unadulterated love. But you had been a coward, telling yourself it had all been casual, a slip in character, unable to face the truth. So you had escaped to safety, marrying John.

You didn’t want to run anymore. You knew that Kate never went on mission with TF141, instead staying behind the scenes, working to provide intel and guide the men during their operations. So you had found the perfect night, throwing the bag into the backseat of your car, and you had taken off.

Now you were standing face-to-face with “I told you so”. Right outside her front door, after Kate had made her way out of bed to see who her late-night visitor was. It was safe to say, she had seen this coming.