TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter briefly describes the interaction between two girls. Readers' discretion is advised.
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The first day after Elara pulled away, I convinced myself it didn’t matter. I had dealt with worse—betrayals that cut deeper, wounds that never healed. I could survive this.
I threw myself into work. Missions kept me busy, and busy was good. It kept my mind off the ache in my chest, the feeling that something vital had been taken from me. We continued to operate like we always had—efficient, precise, and silent.
We barely spoke, only what was necessary. It wasn’t like before, when we could laugh between missions or share stories over a drink. Now, there was nothing. Just the cold, professional distance I had worked so hard to create. I should’ve
