The First Test

The weight of Ethan's confession still hung between them; an unspoken heaviness neither knew how to fully process. The promise of no more secrets felt both reassuring and terrifying. Emily wanted to believe it, wanted to trust that they had turned a corner, but reality had other plans.

The morning was eerily quiet. Too quiet.

Emily stood against the kitchen counter, blankly staring at the untouched coffee in front of her. Ethan sat across the room against the wall; his eyes were distant as if his mind wandered somewhere else; she knew he was thinking about what he told her last night, about the past that would not let him go.

But it was not just the past haunting them now.

Something felt. off.

It was an unsettling feeling, like the weight of unseen eyes pressing into her skin at the back of her neck. She exhaled, shaking the thought away, but it persisted, a gnawing sense of unease.

"Ethan."

He glanced at her, the sharp focus in his eyes returning instantly. He was always alert, always on edge. "What is it?"

She hesitated. "Do you ever feel like… we're being watched?"

His jaw locked in place, his body rigid as he moved off the wall. "What are you basing that on?" he demanded.

"I don't know." She frowned, shivering. Her arms rose and fell, her hands fisting at her elbows. Something's just not right.

Ethan stepped across to the window. He hesitated, the movement cautious as he pushed back the curtain, glancing outside. His muscles wound tight. And for one brief instant, Emily saw it. That tiny leap of tension. The silent alarm flashing in his eyes.

He saw something.

"What is it?" she asked, her heartbeat quickening.

Ethan didn't answer right away. He turned back to her, his expression carefully controlled, but she knew him well enough now to see past the mask.

"Pack a bag," he said, his voice low but firm.

Her stomach dropped. "What? Why?"

"There's someone out there."

The world seemed to tilt for a moment. Emily swallowed hard, her pulse drumming in her ears. "Who?

Ethan gritted his jaw, his fists curling. "Someone from my past."

Emily didn't press the issue. She trusted him. Without another word, she spun around and hastened to the bedroom, shoving what little she could into a small bag. Her mind was racing. Someone from his past? The same people who sent that message? Or something worse?

She zipped up the bag and turned, only to find Ethan already there, standing in the doorway. His presence was solid, grounding, but she could see the battle waging within him. He didn't want to drag her into this. But it was too late—she was already in it.

"Emily," he said softly, taking a step closer. "This is your last chance. If you want out, if you want to walk away from this, from me, I won't stop you."

Her breath hitched. "Do you want me to walk away?"

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "No."

Her chest ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. "Then don't ask me to."

Ethan looked at her for a long time before nodding. "Let's go."

---

The drive was tense, full of silence and the hum of the road beneath them. Emily sat in the passenger seat, her arms folded across her chest as she tried to digest everything.

Finally, she snapped out of it. "Who is it?"

Ethan's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "His name is Victor Kane. We served together. He was. one of the best."

She scowled. "And now?"

Ethan released a deep breath. "Now, he's working for the other side."

A chill went down Emily's spine. "What does that mean?"

Ethan's jaw worked. "It means he's not here to catch up. If he's watching us, it's because someone sent him."

Emily absorbed his words, the implications settling heavy in her chest. "So what do we do?

He looked at her. Something unreadable was in his face. "We wait for him to make a move."

Her stomach twisted. "That's the plan?"

"That's the only one we have."

She exhaled, looking out the window as buildings blurred together. This was her life now. Shadows, secrets, danger. And yet, despite the fear curling in her gut, she wasn't running. Not yet.

---

It was a small cabin deep in the woods, tucked away from curious eyes. Emily stepped inside and took in the sparse but functional space. There was a fireplace, a worn couch, and a small kitchen. It was the kind of place that existed for necessity, not comfort.

Ethan locked the door behind them and checked the perimeter before finally allowing himself to relax. Or at least, as much as he ever did.

Emily dropped her bag onto the couch and turned to him. "So what now?"

He ran a hand down his face. "Now, we wait."

She sighed. "You keep saying that."

He gazed at her then, really looked at her. "I know this isn't what you signed up for, Emily."

She folded her arms. "And yet, I'm still here."

He took another step closer, his eyes searching for something in hers. "Why?"

The question caught in her like a punch to the gut. Why? Why was she still here, despite the danger, despite the uncertainty? Why did she feel like leaving was never an option?

Because it wasn't.

Because somewhere along the way, she had stopped seeing Ethan as just a man she was working with and started seeing him as something more.

Someone she wasn't willing to lose.

She swallowed, her throat tight. "Because you're worth it."

Ethan's breath caught in his throat as he looked for a moment as if he might be lost. Then, without warning, he closed the space between them and his hands covered her face while his lips collided with hers.

The kiss was desperate, raw, full of all the things that neither of them could say out loud. Emily clung to him, her fingers tangling in his hair, pouring every ounce of her fear, her longing, her belief in him into that kiss.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads pressed together, Ethan whispered, "You should hate me for dragging you into this."

Emily smiled faintly. "Too late for that."

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, but it faded quickly as his expression darkened. "We should get some rest. Tomorrow, we figure out our next move."

She nodded, but as she lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, she knew sleep wouldn't come easily.

Because outside, in the darkness, someone was still watching.

And the first test was only just beginning.