Years passed like smoke. I climbed the ranks, one title after the other until I stood just below the line—Lieutenant Colonel. Ivan never climbed as fast, but he was always right there, just a breath behind me. My shadow. My closest friend. My goddamn constant.
And still… never a word.
But sometimes—sometimes—when we were alone, and the world outside the tent or truck or briefing room went quiet, he'd look at me like he remembered. And I'd look back, wondering if it haunted him too. Wondering if I was the only one who replayed it in my head when sleep wouldn't come. If I was the only one who still felt his lips when the night got too long and the silence too deep.
But he never brought it up. So I didn't either. And it sat there. A ghost between us. Unspoken. Unforgotten.
And then I'd seen Ivan with others. Smiling. Laughing. Touching.
