The Soldier and His Girl. (Steve Rogers Love Story)

Extra Chapter: A Chance Encounter with John Walker..

The press conference was over, but the weight of it pressed on my chest like a heavy stone. Seeing John Walker holding Steve's shield had shattered something inside me, and I couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of loss, betrayal—like the world had spun out of control. I pushed through the crowd, my heart thudding painfully in my chest. I had to get out, to breathe, to find some way to make sense of this storm inside me.

The corridors of the building were quieter now, but the tension that had built during the press conference clung to the air like humidity before a thunderstorm. The sharp ache in my chest refused to leave, and it felt like everything around me was off, wrong, broken. I walked blindly, needing space, needing to be anywhere but here.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Tony's name flashed across the screen. Normally, I'd welcome his enthusiasm—something about a new tech project or a breakthrough he and Peter Parker had made. But today? Today, I couldn't handle it.

"Tony," I answered, my voice tight, holding back the storm of emotions that was threatening to break through.

"Em! You won't believe what Parker and I—"

"Not now, Tony," I snapped, sharper than I meant to. "I can't do this right now."

Silence on the other end. That never happened with Tony. "What's wrong? You okay?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the tears that were on the edge of falling. "No," I whispered. "I'm not. I just—need time."

Before he could respond, I ended the call, sliding the phone back into my pocket. The silence that followed felt suffocating. I needed out of this building. I needed fresh air, something to calm the storm brewing inside me.

I was halfway down the hall when I collided with someone. The impact barely registered, my mind so clouded with frustration and grief.

"Sorry," I mumbled, brushing past whoever it was.

"It's okay," a voice replied—familiar. Too familiar. I froze mid-step, my heart lurching as I slowly turned to face the one person I didn't want to see.

John Walker stood there, still holding the shield that had once belonged to my husband, his grip on it firm. I could feel the ice building beneath my skin, cold crawling through my veins. The temperature in the hallway dropped a few degrees as my powers reacted to the anger surging inside me.

"Emily," he said cautiously, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I didn't expect to see you here."

I clenched my fists, my breath coming out in cold puffs. "What do you want, John?" I asked, not bothering to hide the coldness in my voice. Tiny crystals of ice formed at my fingertips, and I didn't care if he noticed. I wanted him to feel the chill, to know exactly what I thought of him standing there with Steve's shield like he had any right to it.

He shifted, his eyes flickering between me and the shield, as if he was second-guessing himself. "I wanted to talk."

"Talk?" I repeated, my voice sharp as the ice forming along the walls. "What is there to talk about? How you think you can just step into Steve's shoes like it's nothing? Like you can carry that shield without even understanding what it means?"

He winced, and I could see the doubt flash in his eyes, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to stop the storm inside me from growing stronger.

"I didn't ask for this," he said, his voice softer now, pleading almost. "But the world needs Captain America, and Sam—Sam gave it up."

The mention of Sam twisted the knife even deeper in my chest. "Sam should have kept it," I said, more to myself than to him. My voice cracked with the weight of those words. "Steve trusted him with it, not you."