Call of duty imagines

Price • [the other woman]

My eyes watched his back, his breath slow and gentle. From the darkness of the room, I could tell he wanted silence. The moon shone so brightly yet softly against the frame of his build.

I knew from his stature he was thinking. Long and hard.

His hands were interlocked, while his elbows sat comfortably on his knees, back bent toward the ceiling. There was a distance between us.

Him on one edge of the bed while I sat on the other.

Silence filled our ears as our breaths exhaled out of rhythm. For a moment, I could only watch, I could only ponder and wait.

Nights like this we spent fighting or ignoring each other, then on the other nights we spent in each others arms, laughing or crying. Tonight, was neither of the two.

Tonight was different.

Price shifted himself back onto the bed slightly to feel the comfort of it under him. He didn't look back nor did he say a word.

My hand wanted to urge forward and hold him, but something...something told me he didn't need me. My eyes fell thin, sadness in my heart as I grasped the bed sheet between my fingers.

"John dear, what wrong?"

I asked quietly, my voice gentle and calm.

"Nothing."

Shamefully I looked down at my hand. My finger wrapped in the silver band meant to symbolize love and eternity. A sad smile fell upon my lips, then a frown. My eyes flashed back up to face his back again.

Then I knew, perhaps, there certainly was something wrong.

I sighed and stood up form the bed, his position never changing. I knew he wanted to be alone, so that's what I gave him.

Walking around the bed, I went toward the door of our shared room. Grasping onto the handle I twisted the knob slowly and quietly.

"I'm here if you need me." I said once more, looking back I'd realized he was holding a photo.

Then finally I had realized what he was thinking.

Quickly I shut the door and walked away from the room. My hands shook as my heart began to race.

He was looking at a picture of her.

During our early years of marriage, Price had always mentioned his past wife. The way he found patterns of her in me, I hated it, but for him I was willing to accept it. For years, I was hopeful that he would eventually let her go, and realize that we could love like they once did.

But I was nothing like her. From my hair, to my smile, to my heart. She had everything and yet nothing all at once. It would be wrong to be envious of a mourned love, but I was the fool.

I sat down on the couch and pushed my legs up, hugging them close to my body as I buried my head into my knees.

Although he promised he had forgotten about her, this lingering doubt had come true.

Every night I wondered where he would go, but I would only find him, sat in the corner of our home dowsed in his beer with a photo of her in his hand.

It hurt to say the least, but I could do nothing to mend the hurt he was going through.

I could never be the woman he loved from the start, I could never replace the feeling of love he felt for her.

I simply couldn't be her.

Shutting my eyes, I felt the burn of tears weld. My heart heavy with pain as I felt my hands tighten together.

It was stupid of me to think that I could ever heal him, to ever change his life from its past.

Love was meant for pain and happiness, but ours was nothing but pain. For years I sacrificed my heart to heal his, to stitch back the scars he felt when he lost her. But I had no more to give.

I began to sob, quite whimpers erupt form my lips as I could no longer handle the pain of this one sided marriage. It was selfish of me to think I could help him heal. I felt stupid, betrayed and worst of all, alone.

From the hall of our home, I could hear the door of our room open, followed by slow creaking footsteps.

Quickly I wiped my face and regained my composure.

"Y/n? Are you out there?" His thick British accent echoed through the house as he called to me.

"Yes I'm in the living room." My voice was quite, masking the cry of my own voice. Slowly he appeared from the corner of the hall, his hand now empty of the photo.

"Are you crying?" He asked, worry and concern laced in his tone. I could only smile as I shook my head reassuringly. "Of course not." Forcing out a chuckle i tuned back to face the wall.

Slowly he joined me on the couch his hand reaching for mine. Instinctively I pulled my hand back, keeping it close to my chest.

He looked at me, concern and confusion in his eyes.

"What wrong y/n?" Price tried to reach for me again, but I moved back. This wasn't how I wanted our relationship to last.

I couldn't bare to love a man who saw me as someone I wasn't. His love caused me pain.

"I-I think we should take a break." I finally chocked out. His eyes widened, lips slightly agape as he tried to fathom any sort of response.

"I-I can't b-be the woman you first loved, I can't hold you like she did, or sing for you or care for you like she once did. That just isn't me." His eyes seemed to soften, knowingly he sat back, a long sigh escaping his mouth.

"Y/n I'm sorry you feel that way, I promise that you've done nothing wrong, it's jus-"

"No John, I haven't, but I can't love like this, I can't love you if you can't love me...for me. I know you'll never fully heal from the loss of her, but I'm begging you, to please love me too. Don't forget about me."

My tears seemed to have returned, my lips quivering as my eyes searched for remorse in his eyes.

His hand reach out for me, gently he touched my cheek rubbing the tears from my eyes. His corse fingers gliding along my face, trying to comfort me.

"I'm sorry, I- I just can't seem to let her go." He said shamefully, his hand dropped from my face as he looked down. "I know John, I've known the for our entire marriage, but I chose to allow it. I chose to let you hurt me if it meant you were happy, but, I can't do that anymore."

Instinctively his head shot up to meet my eyes. Regret and desperation in his eyes. "I love you John, I really do, but this..." I pointed between the two of us. "This isn't love, this is just a distraction." Pushing my legs off , I rested my feet against the cold floor of the living room. I stood and turned to face him.

"I'm sorry."

Pulling off our wedding band, I bent down and gently placed it beside him. "I'll stay with my parents for a while, just worry about yourself first okay?" I bit my lip before bending down pressing a soft kiss against his lips, when he didn't kiss back, I got the sign that it was time for me to go.

Regretfully I left.

My mind heavy with sadness and pain, but yet, I still loved him, even if it meant I was fighting for it.

I'd eventually grow to accept that this was fate, but I could never accept that this is what I allowed it to do.

Knowing that he was in love with the memory of her.

I lost the man I wished loved me the way that I...love him.