As Grim as the Reaper | PREQUEL Simon 'GHOST' Riley

TWENTY THREE

Pushing the door open as quietly as you could, you found the house in darkness.

You had to take a deep breath before stepping inside, because this place...it didn't feel like home anymore. You didn't belong here anymore.

All of that just solidified the decision you'd come to over the last week.

The door shut behind you with a soft thud, and you lowered your bag to the floor. With silent steps, you made your way upstairs.

There was a thin layer of dust along the surfaces, evidence that Graves hadn't bothered with any of the housework in the week you'd been away. The bed was unmade, his clothes dropped around the room here and there, but he was nowhere to be found.

Somehow, that didn't make it easier.

It didn't take you long to pack the small amount of your belongings. It was only a small house, after all. Couldn't really justify owning much when the two of you were constantly moving. At least you had that.

You'd insisted on coming alone.

Laswell didn't want that, but she agreed after your stubbornness prevailed, opting to drop you off and pick you up in an hour. That was surely enough time to pack everything away and leave.

Leave the house.

Leave him.

In all honestly, it had barely taken you thirty minutes to pack your things, and so after bringing your bags to the door, you decided to make one more round of your little home...house.

You smiled, tasting the salt of a lone tear as you glanced at the pictures hung on the wall. Pictures from your first date, the weekends spent in his hometown in Texas, multiple snapshots of your time together, right down to the night you got engaged.

Everything in the last three years, just gone.

Trudging downstairs, you moved to turn off the last lamp, wiping a tear from your face until a voice stopped you.

"Goin' somewhere?"

You jumped, squinting into the darkness, where you could make out the shape of Graves, sitting on the armchair, looking at your bags.

Fuck.

"I- uh, I-"

"You were just gonna up and leave, huh? After everything?"

"Phillip, please just-"

He stood up, cutting you off, "Where the fuck have you been for the last week?! I've been worried sick!"

What?

That's what he called worried?

You scoffed as he approached you, "Worried? Where was that a month ago? Two months ago? Where the fuck was that when you all but told your fucking team you'd cheat on me?"

Your voice raised with every word, finger poking into his chest.

"I didn't mean it like that, you didn't even give me chance to explain myself!"

"You think you deserved that? I reckon 'never say never, y'all!' is pretty fucking self-explanatory, you fuckin' prick."

Your words were venomous, and they stung him with surprise. Never did he think you'd speak to him like this, where was his sweet girl? His little Reaper?

"The fuck is goin' on with you, huh? We're getting married and here you are sneakin' round the house packin' bags."

You were silent.