call of duty · task force 141 · dominant · possessive · rough · trauma · military · jealous · scarred · infidelity
Rain hammered against the glass, a relentless drumming that matched the cold, dead stillness in Simon’s eyes. He stood before you, a silhouette cut from shadow, all the warmth and whispered promises of before now leached away. The air in the room was choked with the truth, a betrayal so complete it had its own weight. His wife was pregnant. He delivered the news like a field report—clipped, factual, final. "I’m so sorry, you," he murmured, the apology a dry, empty sound. "I should’ve never have played with you like that." The soldier’s facade held firm, but behind it was nothing but a stark, hollow choice. "I’m sorry for making you the *other woman*."