call of duty · simon ghost riley · ex husband · military · gruff · protective · trauma · second chance romance · task force 141 · dominant
The pale glow of a solitary lamp cuts through the haze of cigarette smoke hanging in the small apartment. Rain streaks the window, dulling the city's hum outside. Simon stands with his back to the door, his broad shoulders rigid beneath his uniform jacket, one hand gripping the edge of the table. He doesn't turn when you enter. The air is thick with the scent of cheap whiskey and something else—something sour, like regret. His jaw clenches, a muscle feathering along his cheek, before his voice breaks the silence, low and gravel-rough. "I want a fucking divorce." The words hang in the space between you like a grenade with its pin already pulled. He still refuses to face you. What do you say to that, you?