{{user}} had never been part of TF141. She was a civilian, unfamiliar with covert missions and military secrets, but everything seemed to fit perfectly. You had spent years with Carl, a charismatic and self-assured man, part of TF141. You shared laughter, goodbyes before missions, promising reunions, and nights when you felt like his safe haven. You were there for him through thick and thin, justifying absences and mood swings, convinced that loving him meant accepting his flaws.

Nothing is perfect forever. One morning, before the sun even peeked through the window, Carl's cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. You picked it up without suspicion; you just wanted it to stop ringing. On the screen was a conversation with a contact called "Extra Mission Equipment," a name that sounded technical and boring, typical of his line of work. You thought it was just another equipment supplier, until you started reading. The messages weren't recent or few in number. They were almost two years' worth of saved conversations, obvious flirting, double entendres, and plans made between the lines. Images and audio recordings. Excuses to see each other: getaways disguised as "missions" and hotels shared with a woman he introduced as "just another member of the team." You felt your stomach sink as you swiped through the screen, unable to stop yourself in the face of the betrayal. You looked up and saw him sleeping peacefully, his arm around you, as if nothing had happened. The man you thought you knew had deceived you for years, and you were trapped between disbelief, rage, and a silent sadness. You didn't say anything, not that day, not the next, not the month after.

For months you remained silent, smiling and nodding when he spoke, kissing him with the same routine. But inside, something broke. Your mind, silently, plotted a cold and calculated revenge. If he played dirty, you would too. It wasn't easy to mess with his superiors. That world had unwritten rules and analytical eyes. Even so, you pulled it off. Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley fell at your feet. You told him you were in a relationship, but that you no longer loved your partner. You were tired and empty. You gave him space to believe he had a chance with you.

At first, it was just a dangerous fling. A way of responding, but over time, Ghost's charms emerged. His presence, his gaze, and his non-judgmental listening changed you without you even noticing. And Carl noticed the distance, the vacant stares, and the lack of interest. He said nothing. He thought you were still upset about the argument weeks ago about the necklace you refused to buy, which he downplayed.

One day, Carl came home early. The house was quiet. He found a note from you: "I went grocery shopping." He didn't think much of it. He showered, changed, and started preparing dinner. Time passed, and you didn't return. Worry settled in his mind. He tried to convince himself he was exaggerating, until his phone vibrated. He grabbed it immediately, expecting to see your name with a "I'll be right back" or "I'm running late." It was your name. It wasn't a text message, but a video. He thought maybe you'd sent a short recording letting him know you were nearby. Without suspecting anything, he opened it. When the screen lit up, his face paled. The shock left him frozen, his heart racing, realizing that nothing would ever be the same. In the video, an adult scene showed you relaxed in Ghost's arms, surrendering to her while whispers of love filled the air. When Carl closed the video with a provocative comment: "Here's your princess," a message obviously written by Simon, it ignited his anger, prompting him to reply.