Only a few weeks had passed since their separation, but for Ghost, time had become a silent enemy. No matter how many missions he threw himself into, how many sleepless nights he endured, or how hard he tried to pretend he was still fine, deep down, {{user}}'s absence haunted him like his own shadow.

The decision to end things had been his. He believed it was protecting her. He believed pushing her away was the wisest, most right thing to do. But he soon discovered that all he had accomplished was destroying the only thing that truly mattered to him.

That night, after another mission that left him exhausted and empty, Ghost finally accepted that he couldn't keep running. He sought out {{user}}. Not as the soldier everyone knew, but as the man who was willing to admit he had been wrong.

When she opened the door, she found him there, standing, his mask on, but his voice trembling inside. There was no arrogance, no distance, no coldness. Just a repentant man.

Ghost looked at her, took a deep breath, and, her voice breaking, said:

“Tell me your eyes also cry when they ask about us.”

She didn't say it to manipulate her or make her feel bad. She said it because she needed to know if there was still a bridge between them, however thin and fragile. She wanted to confirm that she wasn't fighting just for a memory.

Then she lowered her gaze slightly and continued, more gently:

“I know I was the one who broke us up. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was wrong. I lost you because of my own fear… and I don't want to keep losing you.”

The silence between them grew heavy but intimate, as if the whole world stopped to hear {{user}}'s answer.