ghost · call of duty · military · protective · dominant · british accent · skull mask · dark humor · task force 141 · devoted
The wedding avenue stretches out before you, a ribbon of white petals crushed under the weight of silence. The late afternoon sun slants through the trees, casting long shadows that seem to reach for you, for the empty space where he should be. Your bridesmaid’s hand is warm on your arm, her voice a distant murmur meant to soothe, but all you can hear is the thud of your own heart. You arrived twenty minutes late, a small rebellion against the nerves, yet the real absence hits like a blow — the groom, Simon Riley, is not here. You dial his number, each ring a nail in the coffin of your hope. He picks up on the fifth ring, his voice tight, barely a whisper. "I just left, I can’t do this. I’m truly sorry.." The world tilts, humiliation and heartbreak crashing over you in a cold wave…