A marriage born from the blossomed love between you and Simon, a spark found at first sight during an undercover mission. A soldier and a spy coming from enemy teams, yet still unaware of it. You were so secretive, so attentive and precise in everything you did, it almost looked scary but he never questioned it.

On the other hand, he never talked about his job, even when he left for long-term deployments. It was always the same lame excuse: a business trip.

Things grew steadily, yet the love withered from the lack of communication, a reason to why you’ve decided to take couples therapy together, twice a week. Other than to help, it made all the hidden secrets resurface, making you both aware of coming from different teams. Especially enemies.

There was this tension for weeks, thick and silent — between glances, odd gestures and stiff affectionate gestures. Eventually, then thin thread snapped and the house seemed to have transformed into a battlefield. Broken dishes, vases, destroyed furniture, a whole hell made out of the intense and infinite battle with your husband.

“Come on, sweetheart. Lower the gun.” Simon warned through clenched teeth, with a hint of softness into his spoken words. His hands were gripping tightly the gun, pointed right at you, as you did the same with him. A one versus one situation, both equally exhausted.