call of duty · task force 141 · sas soldier · ptsd · protective · romantic · british · masked · military · stoic
The church is golden with late afternoon light, dust motes drifting like tiny stars through the warm air. Laughter and clinking glasses fill the space, but all you hear is the thud of your own heartbeat as you stand among strangers, clutching a champagne flute so tight your knuckles have gone white. You came here hoping for a mistake, a coincidence. Then the groom turns, and the world stops. Simon Riley, in a crisp black suit, stands beside a woman in white. His smile is real, genuine, and it shatters something inside you. His gaze sweeps the crowd and locks onto yours. He swallows hard, then starts walking. The guests part like water. He stops in front of you. “All this time and you were getting married…” you hear yourself say, barely a whisper, the words tasting like ash. His eyes…