Lena's pov
The chill of the night clung to me as I walked away from Ethan, each step heavier than the last. My mind was a storm — swirling with confusion, guilt, and a desperate longing for something I wasn't sure I deserved. The mask I wore for so long felt like it was cracking, and beneath it, I was unraveling.
I didn't know how to be both the girl who lived in the shadows and the girl who wanted to be seen. The lines between mission and heart blurred until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
By the time I reached the agency's headquarters, my breath came in short gasps. The building's sterile lights and cold walls greeted me like an unwelcome reminder of the life I was supposed to live — the life I wanted to escape.
I stood outside the director's office door, fighting the urge to turn away. But I pushed through, knocking softly.
"Come in," his voice was steady, calm, but I heard the unspoken question behind it — the question I wasn't sure I could answer.
I stepped inside, heart pounding. The director looked up, his eyes sharp but patient.
"I can't do this anymore," I said, my voice trembling but resolute. "Give this mission to someone else."
His gaze didn't waver. Instead, he leaned back slightly, folding his hands.
"Why?" he asked quietly.
I swallowed hard, the weight of everything crashing over me.
"I'm supposed to be focused, professional," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But there's… there's something I can't ignore. Someone who's changed everything."
I took a breath, fighting back the tears I didn't want to shed here.
"Ethan," I whispered. "He cares about me. Not like the others, not like some assignment or cover story. He sees me. And I—" My voice cracked. "I think I'm starting to feel the same."
The director's eyes softened, but there was steel beneath the compassion.
"No one else can do this mission," he said, voice firm. "Not because it's impossible, but because you're the only one capable. The youngest, yes—but also the most skilled and dedicated spy we have."
I looked away, biting my lip.
"I'm afraid," I admitted. "Afraid that if I keep going, I'll lose myself — or worse, lose him."
He stood, walking to the window, looking out at the city lights.
"Lena," he said without turning, "the hardest part of this job isn't the danger out there. It's the risk we take inside our own hearts. But you're stronger than you realize. You don't have to be perfect. You just have to be yourself."
I met his gaze again, feeling a mixture of resolve and doubt.
"I want to protect him," I said softly. "And if that means stepping away, then maybe that's what I have to do."
He shook his head gently.
"Sometimes, the mission isn't about stepping away, but learning how to carry everything with you. Including the ones you love."
I left the office with a heavy heart, knowing the path ahead was more complicated than ever.
But one thing was clear: this mission was mine — whether I was ready or not.