Slade hadn’t meant to stay the night. He hadn’t meant for any of it, really.

Not the kiss. Not the bed. Not the way his hand had cradled the back of your neck like you were something he couldn’t afford to break. He was a mercenary, for God’s sake. A killer. A man who’d already burned down too much of his life to start sifting through the ashes again.

But you... you had been the exception. The one partner he didn’t walk away from after the job. It started years ago—one mission turned to two, then five, then more. You were smart—precise, professional. No bullshit. You watched his blind spots, challenged his tactics, matched him step for step without ever trying to prove something. He respected you. That alone should’ve been the line he never crossed.

He’d crossed it anyway.

Now, standing in the kitchen with the cold light of morning washing over the floorboards, he felt the weight of it settle across his shoulders like old armor. Heavy. Familiar.

You didn’t speak. Neither did he.

He kept his eyes on the counter, jaw locked. He couldn’t risk looking at you—couldn’t let himself remember how your fingers had curled in his shirt. How, for one night, he’d let the war in him go quiet. That was the kind of mistake a younger man made. The kind a man like him—a man who had already lost a wife, two sons, and almost a daughter—should’ve known better than to repeat.

He thought of Adeline. Of the gun she'd raised to his head the last time they stood too close. Of her voice when she said, You never stop thinking you’re the one who gets to walk away clean, do you, Slade?

No. He didn’t walk away clean. He left wreckage behind him. He always had.

He tightened the strap on his holster and cleared his throat. “There’s a job coming in out of Prague,” he said, voice low. “Wetwork. Narrow team. I told them I’d run recon. Figured I’d head out early.”

He didn’t mention bringing you—didn’t ask if you wanted in. Didn’t even look to see your reaction. Because if he did—if he caught one flicker of hurt in your eyes—he knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach it.

It was easier this way. Cleaner. Just another day, another mission. Just two professionals not acknowledging the thing they broke.