After three rounds of drinks, even I felt slightly lightheaded.

Carter stumbled out of the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake. Moments later, Scarlett received a message. She abruptly stood up, her cheeks and earlobes turning crimson.

When she noticed my questioning gaze, she quickly composed herself, forcing a calm tone.

“Honey, I was injured during the last mission, and the doctor advised me not to drink. I’ll head to the infirmary for a bit. You stay here and enjoy yourself with the others.”

With hurried steps, she left the room. A soft vibration came from my pocket—her message.

[Come to Room 302. There’s a surprise.]

The tone was cold, unlike Scarlett's usual warmth. Was it Carter’s provocation?

I lowered my gaze and ignored it, quietly pulling out my phone and accessing the intranet’s surveillance feed instead. The scene unfolding on the screen was nothing short of debauchery.

Carter, now dressed in a sheer, water-soaked shirt, leaned against Scarlett with predatory confidence. His toned muscles glistened under the light, exuding an allure Scarlett couldn’t seem to resist. Her flushed face and dreamy gaze betrayed her eagerness as she lay on the bed, waiting.

Carter grinned, satisfied, as he leaned in closer. But today, Scarlett seemed more impatient than usual, urging Carter to hurry up. She had no time for foreplay or idle talk—she was focused only on satisfying her desires so she could return home to play the role of a “loving wife.”

But then Scarlett’s eyes caught something on her phone—a message Carter had sent without her knowledge.

Her blood ran cold. The haze of passion dissipated in an instant. Scarlett shot up from the bed, her voice sharp and laced with fury. “You’d better hope my husband didn’t see this, or I’ll make sure you regret it!”

She stormed out of the room, ignoring Carter’s desperate pleas to stay. Her heels clattered loudly against the stairs as she rushed down, nearly twisting her ankle in her frantic pace.

But the fear of what awaited her if I had seen that message far outweighed the pain. Terrifying thoughts raced through her mind. “Did Henry see the message? Did he go to Room 302?” The consequences were too awful to imagine.

When Scarlett finally pushed open the restaurant door and saw me sitting calmly at the table, she exhaled a long breath of relief.

She threw herself into my arms, gasping for air. “Honey… you didn’t see the message I sent, right?”

I smiled, shaking my head. “My phone died earlier. What message? Was it important?”

Relief flooded her features. Her voice turned syrupy sweet, like honey dripping from a comb. “It’s nothing. Just having you by my side is all that matters.”

The other team members chuckled and began to tease her.

“Scarlett, the tigress, has turned into a kitten!”

“Henry, you have no idea. Scarlett is the strongest, scariest woman on the team. But today, she’s all soft and sweet!”

“Tsk, tsk. Henry, you should come around more often. Maybe Scarlett will stop scolding us so much!”

The room erupted in laughter.

***

Moments later, Carter entered, his face composed, though the flicker of bitterness in his eyes was unmistakable. “Yes, with Henry here, Scarlett seems so… different,” he said, his smile just wide enough to mask his spite.

He raised his glass in a toast. “To Henry—take good care of Scarlett. There are quite a few folks in the General Agents Department with their eye on her.”

I played along, feigning interest. “Oh? Is that so? Who in particular?”

Carter raised an eyebrow, his grin turning smug. “Well, there’s someone on this very team who admires her.”

Scarlett’s face darkened instantly, her smile faltering as panic flickered in her eyes. She forced a laugh, her tone overly light. “Don’t be ridiculous, Carter. Honey, he’s just joking.”

Carter leaned back in his chair, his expression defiant. “Of course, Henry, it’s just casual talk. Don’t read too much into it.”

But his tone betrayed his intentions—he wanted me to doubt her. Scarlett, clearly rattled, quickly tugged on my arm, her voice trembling slightly. “Let’s go home, Henry.”

I nodded, rising to my feet. The air between us felt heavy with unspoken truths as we left the restaurant together.

As we left the restaurant, I caught Carter' gaze lingering on me—a deliberate provocation, a silent dare. The drive home was tense, the car thick with unspoken words.

Scarlett tried to break the silence, her voice overly cheerful as she talked about mundane things. But I didn’t respond, keeping my eyes on the road, my grip on the steering wheel tight.

Later that night, as we lay in bed, Scarlett curled up against me, her slender arms draped across my back.

It was then I spoke, my voice soft yet cutting. “Scarlett, why do you smell like someone else? A scent I’ve noticed before... but not on you.”

Her body stiffened instantly. She shot out of bed, retreating into the bathroom so quickly it was almost comical. “That must be the disinfectant from the infirmary!” she called out, her voice trembling. “I’ll just take a quick shower. You don’t have to wait up, honey.”

I lay there listening to the water run, my eyes fixed on the ceiling. Two more days. Two more days, and this will all be over.

***

The next day, I woke to the scent of food wafting into the bedroom. It was nearly noon. Scarlett entered with a radiant smile, her voice sweet as honey. “Darling, wake up. I made all your favorites!”

At the dining table, she sat across from me, her eyes glued to my face as I ate. “I’m staying home today,” she declared. “I want to spend every second with you. Just you and me, together forever.”

For the rest of the day, she stayed true to her word. She clung to me like a shadow, ignoring her constantly buzzing phone.

We watched cheesy dramas, played old two-player games, and laughed at nothing in particular. For a fleeting moment, it almost felt like the old days. Almost. But I knew better.

As night fell, the doorbell rang, breaking the illusion. Scarlett rose to answer, her voice light. “Who could that be at this hour?” Her tone shifted abruptly when she opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

Carter’s voice followed, low and pitiful. “I had nowhere else to go. Won’t you let me in?”

When he stepped inside and saw me, his face lit with an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Henry! I didn’t realize you’d be here. My hotel had issues, and Scarlett mentioned you had a guest room. I hope it’s not too much trouble?”

I glanced at Scarlett, whose face had paled, her hands fidgeting nervously. “Of course,” I said, keeping my tone even. “Make yourself at home.”

I excused myself to fetch some spare pajamas while Scarlett led Carter to the guest room.

***

Upstairs, I moved quietly, making sure to stay within earshot. I heard Scarlett’s sharp whisper, filled with barely restrained anger.

“Are you out of your mind? What do you think you’re doing?”

Carter’s reply was soft, pleading. “I miss you, Scarlett. I miss our child.” There was a brief pause before Scarlett hissed, her voice colder now.

“Shut up! The child I’m carrying belongs to my husband. Do you understand?”

But Carter wasn’t deterred. I heard the faint rustle of movement, the unmistakable sound of a kiss.

Perhaps the wedding photos on the walls had fueled his recklessness, but he was relentless, clinging to Scarlett as if she were his lifeline.

Their muffled whispers continued for several agonizing minutes before Scarlett seemed to regain control. “No,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered. “My husband is upstairs. This is insane.”

Carter chuckled lowly. “He’ll never hear us. The master bedroom is on the second floor, and we’re on the first. Come find me when he’s asleep.”

The sound of his arrogance made my blood boil, but I kept my composure. I knocked lightly on the door and entered.

“Captain Brooks,” I said, holding out a set of pajamas. “These were a gift from Scarlett. I haven’t worn them yet. I hope you don’t mind.”

Carter took them, feigning surprise. “If Scarlett picked them out, I’m sure they’re perfect. Thank you, Henry.” His eyes didn’t leave Scarlett, who stood frozen in place, her expression unreadable.

Before I left, Scarlett practically shoved me out of the room, muttering excuses about needing to show Carter around.

***

That night, Scarlett waited until she thought I was asleep before slipping out of bed. She left the bedroom quietly, the soft click of the door closing behind her barely audible.

I didn’t follow. I didn’t need to. Under my roof, in our shared home, their betrayal felt more brazen, more deliberate. Perhaps the thrill of getting away with it was part of the appeal.

But the clock was ticking. Two more days.

The moment the door clicked shut, I opened my eyes. From midnight to early morning, the guest room had been alive with muffled sounds, their voices carrying through the silence.

I had spent the night sitting on the edge of the bed, a cigarette perpetually lit between my fingers. The empty cartons littered the floor, and the acrid scent of smoke clung to the room, making me cough until tears burned my eyes.

Tears—for her. Why? I didn’t love her anymore. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

When the first rays of sunlight seeped into the room, I wiped my face clean, collected the spent cigarettes, and threw them into the trash. Along with them, I tossed years of feelings I could no longer bear to hold onto.

By tomorrow—no, by the end of today—this would all be over.

***

Scarlett stood by the door as I prepared to leave, her reluctance almost tangible.

“Hubby, when this mission is over, I promise I’ll stay with you. Just wait for me!” She kissed me over and over, delaying until the last possible second before she finally ran out the door, afraid of being late.

I watched her car speed off, her words echoing in my mind, hollow and meaningless. I turned and climbed up to the roof. The waiting helicopter blades sliced through the air, a reminder that there was no turning back now. As I boarded, a faint, familiar scent drifted toward me.

Moments later, a woman stumbled as the aircraft made a sharp turn, falling into my arms. “Still time to back out, you know,” her voice teased, low and melodic.

I helped her to her seat and closed my eyes, feigning indifference. “Brigadier General Gardner, you’re unusually talkative today.”

Bianca, the Secret Service’s only female brigadier general, was known for her icy demeanor, her presence commanding respect and fear alike. Yet now, her laughter—soft and lilting—filled the cramped cabin.

“Henry,” she said, her voice lowering, “this operation is critical. Taking down this network will destabilize the underground forces in the southwest for good. But you’ve been handpicked to be the bait.”

She hesitated, her tone tinged with rare concern. “Promise me you’ll prioritize your safety. No unnecessary risks, understood?”

I nodded silently, securing my gear as the helicopter neared the drop zone.

***

The field command room was ready and waiting, but as soon as I stepped inside, something felt off. The third operator through the door didn’t act right. His movements were stiff, deliberate. Instinctively, I turned to retreat, but a sharp prick in my neck stopped me.

My vision blurred, and the world tilted sideways as I heard a voice, smug and triumphant. “Finally. We’ve captured the famed intelligence analyst. Inform the chief immediately!”

Darkness swallowed me whole.

***

When the moving vehicle finally stopped, a team of agents was already on its way. Scarlett frowned as she reviewed the mission details. “The coordinates are so precise. But didn’t all the informants we planted die?”

The First Captain, a woman with a crisp, commanding voice, replied calmly. “It was the intelligence analyst. He blended in and risked everything to transmit the signal.”

Her voice softened, laced with emotion. “Today’s mission isn’t just about crushing the enemy. It’s also about bringing him back safely. That’s not just the Administrator’s order—it’s my personal plea.”

Scarlett let out a small laugh, her tone casual. “Seems like you and this analyst have a special bond, Captain.”

The First Captain smiled faintly. “I’ve admired him for years. You’re a woman, Scarlett—you understand what it’s like to worry about someone you care about, don’t you?”

Scarlett’s response came swiftly, her tone light but pointed. “I suppose I’m luckier than you, Captain. I’ve been married to the person I love for five years now.”

Carter, who had been listening in silence, snorted derisively. “That analyst? The one who usually hides behind the front lines? Let me guess—he showed up this time because the prize money was too good to resist.”

The First Captain’s demeanor shifted instantly, her temper flaring. “Shut up, Carter! Without him, none of your missions would have succeeded. You wouldn’t even be alive to sit here and spout nonsense!”

Chastened, Carter fell silent, muttering under his breath. The team pressed forward, moving under the cover of darkness toward their target.

***

The initial attack on the enemy’s outer defenses went smoothly. When Scarlett and Carter’s group stormed the warehouse, they found the enemy leader slumped against the second-floor railing, his breath shallow. Beside him, tied up in five separate ways, was a man whose face was obscured by shadows. Even in the dim light, something about him stirred a sense of familiarity in Scarlett. Her thoughts were interrupted when Carter, walking ahead of her, suddenly collapsed to the ground.

“It hurts! My leg—it's pierced by a bullet!” Through the rain of gunfire, I saw Scarlett cradling Carter in her arms, her expression tight with panic. Her voice cracked, laced with sobs. “I can see the bone! The injury is severe—there’s no time to waste.”

Carter groaned, his voice low and trembling. “Just blow them all up, Scarlett. If this drags on, I might lose my leg... I’m terrified. What if I can’t marry you like this?”

The rest of the team hesitated, their focus shifting between Carter and the mission. “Captain, we can’t do that!” one of them argued. “We’re under orders to capture the chief alive! Besides, the intelligence analyst is still inside!”

But their protests were drowned out by Carter’s agonized scream. “I’m the captain! Am I not more important than some analyst?”

At that moment, every eye in the squad turned to Scarlett. As their leader, the decision fell to her. Scarlett glanced toward the warehouse's dim interior, where the analyst was supposedly being held. The intelligence analyst had always treated her well. He’d helped her secure accolades, saving her life more than once. But Carter... Carter was different. He wasn’t just a colleague; he was her secret. His pain, his vulnerability—it tugged at her heart in ways she couldn’t explain. The sound of gunfire outside was relentless, a reminder that time was running out.

In the end, gratitude and duty paled in comparison to the bond she shared with Carter. Scarlett made up her mind. Grabbing the collar of one of her men, she whispered harshly, “The perimeter is secure—there’s no need to waste more time here. Throw in a bomb and report that the bandits detonated it themselves. Quickly! Don’t linger.”

She turned, hoisting Carter onto her shoulder with visible effort, and began to retreat. The moment the bomb was thrown, Scarlett hesitated, casting one final glance back toward the warehouse. The explosion illuminated the scene in stark clarity. For a brief moment, the figure tied up in the warehouse was unmistakable.

Our eyes met. I smiled—desperate, bitter, and resigned. Scarlett froze, her eyes wide, the realization crashing over her.