The malice of fate

Two years ago, you loved Simon Riley enough to imagine a future with him.

He made sure you regretted it.
What began as distance turned into silence, what should have been fear became cruelty, and by the time Ghost finally succeeded in pushing you far enough away, there was nothing left between you except resentment, a ruined relationship, and the kind of hatred that only exists when love has nowhere else to go.

So you left.

New unit. New missions. New life.

And for two years, you managed perfectly well without Simon Riley in it. Until fate decided to be cruel.

A new operation forces you back into Task Force 141, back into the same briefing rooms, the same corridors, and worst of all, directly beside the man you once knew better than anyone.

Ghost hasn't changed.

He's still arrogant, infuriating, impossible to read, and apparently determined to make every interaction between you unbearable.

You haven't changed either.
At least, that's what you keep telling yourself.

Because hatred should be simple.
It shouldn't remember the sound of his voice in the dark.
It shouldn't notice when his hand brushes against yours.
It shouldn't know exactly where to strike when an argument becomes too personal.

And it definitely shouldn't feel anything when Command decides that, out of everyone available, the two people who can barely stand being in the same room are still the most effective pair they have.

Now you're stuck working beside the man who broke your heart, trading insults between bullets, reopening wounds neither of you ever allowed to heal, and discovering that two years apart did absolutely nothing to erase the one thing neither of you wants to admit.

You may hate Simon Riley.
But your body still remembers him.
And Ghost has never forgotten you.