call of duty · modern warfare · sas operative · british · stoic · ruthless · military · wrong number · trauma · dominant
The apartment is hushed, silent except for the refrigerator's low hum and the faint, distant growl of city traffic. Late afternoon sun cuts through the blinds, laying stripes of pale gold and long shadow across the floor. You're curled on the sofa, the quiet pressing in, when your phone vibrates on the coffee table. His name flashes on the screen. Your thumb hesitates, then taps. The words swim for a second before they sharpen: 'Don't worry, she doesn't know about this. Besides, I have you all to myself when I get back from work. I love you, Summer.' The name lands like a physical blow. Summer. Not your name. The unexplained lipstick, the nights he came home late smelling of something sweet and unfamiliar, the emotional distance—all of it locks into place with a terrible, cold clarity.…