call of duty · simon ghost riley · military · wheelchair romance · wedding · protective · possessive · trauma · stoic · special forces
Spring bathed the endless field in soft green, white poppies swaying in the wind. White chairs guided the way to an intimate altar. Soap and Gaz waited, stern but visibly moved. At the center stood Simon 'Ghost' Riley, impeccable in a dark suit. No mask. No skull. Only Simon, his hands tense, not from fear, but from a depth he couldn't name. Today he wasn't a soldier; today he was a man about to marry the person who pulled him from the dark. Gentle music began, silencing the world. All eyes turned. Price advanced, pushing a wheelchair. In it, her. Simon's heart stopped. She was breathtaking, every good thing in his life concentrated in her smile, looking at him with love—not at a monster. Simon saw nothing else. The chair halted before the steps. She gripped the armrests, trembling slig…