Path Of Hate || Phillip Graves x Reader ||

Chapter 25 Final

A/N ~ oh mahhh gahhh thank you everyone for your love and support I am sooooo sorry for being inactive for so long my apologies. I think writers block is over and I'm ready to finally finish the final chapter and finish this book for good. I'll be starting a new book about Simon Ghost Riley x Y/N slow burn enemies to lovers. Love y'all! ~F

Three Months Later

As I tread softly along the forest path, the muted whispers of the wind weaving through the trees echo my own internal silence. The ground beneath my feet is soft, a thick carpet of fallen leaves masking the trail ahead. Sunlight dapples through the dense canopy, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow that dance with each gentle breeze. My heart feels heavy in my chest, each step forward an effort, as if I'm pushing against an unseen force that urges me to turn back.

I'm walking toward a part of the forest I've avoided for months—the final resting place of Soap. We used to explore these woods together, spinning silly horror stories and sharing secrets the forest might hold. Now, it harbors one truth I wish were not so painfully real.

As I approach the clearing, the reality of his absence presses down on me with renewed weight. The small mound of earth, marked by a simple stone, looks much the same as it did the last time I was here. Wildflowers have started to bloom around the edges, splashes of color against the backdrop of green and brown. Soap would have loved that.

Lost in thought, I barely hear the rustling footsteps behind me until Simon's familiar voice breaks the quiet.

"Y/N," he says softly, his tone tinged with the same sorrow we both carry since Soap left us.

I turn to see him, his presence a small comfort in the vast loneliness of the forest. His eyes search mine, reflecting the shared pain we rarely articulate.

"I didn't expect to see anyone else here," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

Simon steps closer, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his jacket. "I guess I had the same idea as you. It's Soap's birthday today."

Of course. The date had been etched in my mind too, a stark reminder that led me here, as if my feet had their own memory.

"We miss him, don't we?" Simon continues, gazing at the grave. His voice is steady, but I can hear the crack just beneath the surface.

I remain quiet, the weight of words unspoken hanging in the air between us.

Noticing my silence, Simon shifts the conversation. "I'm sorry I couldn't attend your wedding," he says, his eyes meeting mine. I avoid his gaze, a mix of emotions swirling inside me.

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" I ask, my voice edged with hurt.

"It was better for both of us," he replies, breaking eye contact.

"You don't know that." I take a deep breath, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Gosh, you're so insufferable! After all this time, I couldn't even get a fucking...," I pause, swallowing the bitterness, "a sorry from you." My eyes fall to the lush green grass.

"I'm sorry, okay?!" he raises his voice, the frustration evident. "I said sorry; now what? It doesn't change the fact that I'm incapable of loving and never will! Not you, not anyone. Get that in your head," he pleads, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Please."

His words cut deeply, carving invisible wounds that erode my self-worth and trust, festering in silence. And that's exactly what has happened between us.

Our silence is broken by a sudden grasp on my hand. He takes it into his large palm, using his other hand to lift my chin, forcing me to look at him. "No matter what happens, I'm still your teammate, and I still care for you. I always will."

"I know... Ghost."

His eyes shift, the weight of unspoken emotions reflected in their depths. I rarely call him by his nickname; it's something reserved for the battlefield.

He said he's a teammate, so let it be. Strong teammate boundaries. Right?

Time Skip

The key turns with a soft click, and the door swings open to the dimly lit entryway of our new home—a place still scattered with unopened boxes and the faint scent of fresh paint. It's supposed to mark a new beginning for us, but today, it feels more like a quiet echo chamber for my melancholy.

I close the door behind me with a gentle push, leaning back against it for a moment as I let out a sigh, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on my shoulders. The office had been brutal—a torrent of deadlines and terse emails that left me feeling drained and undervalued. I peel off my coat, draping it over the nearest box, and toe off my shoes.

"Doll?" Graves' voice drifts from the kitchen, warmer than the soft yellow light spilling into the hallway. I hadn't heard him come in; perhaps he'd been home before me, lost in the labyrinth of unpacking.

I muster a small, weary smile as I move toward the sound of clinking dishes and the comforting aroma of something simmering on the stove. Graves turns around, his face lighting up in a smile that always seems to hold a thread of sunshine, no matter the weather outside.

"Hey, you're home early," he says, drying his hands on a dish towel. He steps over to me, his eyes searching mine—a silent question lingering in his gaze.

"Yeah, it was just... one of those days," I reply, my voice a mere whisper.

Instantly, his expression softens, the lines of his face rearranging into a map of concern. He reaches out, pulling me into a gentle embrace, the kind that speaks without words, offering solace and sanctuary from the storm outside.

"Want to talk about it, or should we just enjoy some quiet tonight?" he murmurs against my hair.

"Quiet sounds perfect," I admit. I lean in for a kiss, allowing the simple comfort of his presence to start mending the frayed edges of my day. Together, we move to the living room, a space still defining itself, filled with the promise of new memories. As we sit side by side, the sadness begins to ebb, tinted by gratitude for this shared solitude, this partnership that feels like home more than any place ever could.

Never in my life had I expected to marry a man I used to hate the most—a man I was supposed to kill, a man who almost killed me. The plot twist is absolutely crazy right now, but at least I don't regret any of it. I'm happy now, but no amount of time can erase the trauma scars from me, mentally or physically.

This is my ending; happy or not, at least I'm not dead.

A/N~ god this was a journey a long one but I'm finally done this is happy ending btw so no worries everyone well and alive except well... Soap... but that's besides the point. I am very sorry for the wait but here's the finished book. Thank you everyone for the love and support it was an amazing journey and I'll be starting a new book RIGHT NOW about Simon ghost Riley a fiction because in this book they don't get a happy ending (she loves Graves)

That's all thank you <3 don't forget to check out my new book!!

Love yalll!!!!

-F