Vanish

1 Three years after my partner was killed in action, I saw him at a wedding. He was the groom. The bride was Jenna, the rookie intern I’d trained myself. She was hanging on his arm, beaming. “Chloe, isn’t it wild? I literally pulled him out of that cartel dump down in Sonora. I heard some psycho ex was stalking him, too, almost blew his whole op. Isn’t it crazy? Talk about fate!” Jenna kept talking, but the sound warped, fading to a dull buzz. Three years. Over a thousand days. The man I’d torn the world apart looking for—the one whose body I never found—was marrying my protégé. “Chloe?” Jenna leaned in, her smile faltering into concern. “You look white as a sheet. Are you okay?” I yanked my arm away from her touch. My whole body was shaking. I dug my nails into my palms, the sharp bite barely registering, just trying to anchor myself, to stop from doing something violent. Three years. I’d put my whole goddamn life on the line. I’d walked through gunfire on the border, crawled through cartel tunnels full of God knows what, and dug through mass graves in the desert, praying I wouldn't find his face. His own family had given up. They held a funeral. But I kept going. I had one rule: See the body. Jack. Agent Jack Riley. The best the Bureau had. My partner. My Jack. Three years ago, a joint-ops takedown across the border. The target's meth lab went up in a fireball. The after-action report was six cold words: Agent Jack Riley. Presumed dead. No remains. I never believed it. And now… now he was here. In a tux. Waiting to marry her. “Chloe, you gotta let him go,” Jenna was saying, her voice soft with pity. “It’s in the past. Look at me, I found Jack. You just need to move on, find a nice guy…” Her words died as the dressing room door opened. It was him. The air in the room evaporated. He was in a perfectly tailored tux, his shoulders as broad as I remembered. He was exactly the same. Except his eyes. The eyes that used to see only me… they just scanned over me like I was part of the furniture. He walked straight to Jenna. His hands, hands I knew better than my own, gently adjusted her veil. His groomsmen—our old team, our brothers—trailed in behind him. Mark, Chris, the whole crew. They saw me. They flinched. Their eyes darted away. That universal “oh shit, we are so fucked” look. If I had any lingering, insane hope—amnesia, maybe?—their faces killed it. He didn't forget. He just didn't want me. “Honey,” Jenna cooed, “tell Mark and the guys not to get too wasted before the reception, okay? We need to party tonight!” She shot a conspiratorial wink at me. Jack just grunted, “Sure.” His eyes never left Jenna’s face. Not one more glance for me. Like we were never anything. I felt the air leave my lungs. I stumbled into the adjoining bathroom, my back hitting the cool tile as I slid to the floor. The pain was physical, a giant hand crushing my chest. “Jack…” I choked out the name, the word burning my throat. “You son of a bitch… how could you?” 2 I heard Mark's muffled voice outside the door. “Jack, man… are you sure about this? Chloe… she’s…” Jack’s voice was like gravel. Cold. “She’s a loose end, Mark. She was getting in the way. Mission’s over, you cut all ties. You need me to teach you that?” A loose end. The wedding started. Jenna, probably thinking I was a basket case, had someone else take my spot as a bridesmaid. I found a dark corner in the back of the reception hall, hidden by a potted plant. I watched him kneel. I watched him slide the ring on her finger. A white-hot rage ripped through me. I wanted to scream. To run up there, tackle her, shake him until his teeth rattled. I wanted to ask him where the hell he’d been for three years. Ask them all why they’d let me grieve like a fool. But I didn't. I just sat there. And when the officiant said, “You may kiss the bride,” I started clapping. I clapped so hard my hands stung. So loud that the people at the tables near me turned to look. Jack’s head snapped up. His eyes, dark and unreadable, found mine in the shadows. I smiled. A huge, grotesque, skull-baring smile. The tears were streaming down my face, hot and furious. I saw his pupils dilate. Just for a second. Then… nothing. He looked away, back to his bride, and kissed her. My fingers were numb, but I pulled out my phone. I don't wish you happiness, Jack. I wish you a lifetime of wanting what you can't have. I wish you agony. The ‘Delivered’ notification pinged. It felt stupid. He had what he wanted. I left before the toasts. If I stayed, I was going to use my service weapon. About a year ago... the last, faintest trail on him went cold in that border town. I’d gone back to our old stash pad—the one that still smelled like him and stale coffee. I looked in the cracked bathroom mirror and I took out my blade. It was the old beat cop downstairs, the nosy one, who found me. Busted the door down. I woke up in the anemic light of a hospital room. Captain Miller, my old boss, was holding my hand, his eyes red. “Chloe, you have to live for him. You have to live to put away every last one of those scumbags he was hunting.” Live for him? In a world without Jack... it was just dark. We were childhood sweethearts. We’d come up through Quantico together. We were partners. We were us. The transfer to a desk job was already approved. We were going to get married. And then... that op. That explosion. I’d been a ghost, haunting the border. Shaking down cartel runners, C.I.s... anyone who might have seen something. They all said the same thing. “He’s gone, jefa.” Now he was back. In a tux. With her. 3 I woke up to my phone vibrating violently on the nightstand. Jenna. A dozen missed calls. A voicemail from Captain Miller. “Chloe. Come back. The squad needs you.” And then, a new message. From Jack. One word. Vanish. I stared at it. Vanish. Not ‘I’m sorry.’ Not ‘It’s complicated.’ Just... Vanish. I started to laugh. A raw, ugly sound that tore out of my chest. All that agony... all that love... and this is what it boiled down to. My hand went to the charm on my chest. A rough, hand-carved wooden thing. It was cracked, but I never took it off. He gave it to me the night before that last op. Climbed my fire escape, smelling like the night air. “Got this for you,” he’d said, his ears red. “From a little milagro shop in Juárez. It's blessed. Keeps you safe. Don't take it off.” I found out later the shop was deep in cartel-held territory. He’d almost gotten himself shot, just for this... this piece of wood he’d heard would ‘tie two souls together.’ My eyes burned. I ripped the leather cord over my head. I walked to the window and threw the damn thing into the dumpster four floors below. “Fuck you, Jack. From now on, you’re on your own.” I cried until I was empty. Then I called Captain Miller. “Cap. I'm coming in. Requesting full active duty. Frontline.” “You sure, Chloe?” “Yeah. I'm sure. I'll tie up my cold cases here. My flight is booked. Seven days.” It was the day we’d first met at the academy. A good day to end it. I spent that week in a haze. Went to the office, signed papers. Ignored my phone. Flight mode. On the seventh day, at noon, someone was pounding on my door. It was Jenna. And Jack, standing behind her like a shadow. “Chloe! You’re alive!” She tried to hug me, but I stepped back. “You scared me to death! Not answering your phone... I thought you’d... you know...” She glanced meaningfully at my wrist. “I’m fine.” My voice was flat. “We’re here to kidnap you! It’s your birthday! Did you forget?” she chirped. “We’re throwing you a huge surprise party! All the new guys from the task force will be there. Cute, single guys! No excuses!” She was so bright. So... sunny. Of course he’d fall for her. I looked past her. At him. His eyes were frozen. Glaciers. A total stranger. I don't know why... I just... stepped aside. Let them in. This was our old stash pad. Two-bedroom, standard-issue government crap. After he ‘died,’ I couldn't leave. I’d kept it just how he liked it. Minimalist. Cold. Jenna wrinkled her nose. “Whoa, Chloe. This place is… intense. It’s like a command center. No... vibe, you know?” “My ex liked it this way,” I said, my voice soft. “We lived here together. I just... kept it.” 4 “God, you were such a pushover!” Jenna scoffed. “You have to stand up for yourself! When Jack and I moved in, I picked everything. I told him he had to sleep on the pink bedsheets, he sleeps on the pink bedsheets!” I bit back a bitter laugh. I’d bought a pink duvet once. He’d slept on the floor for three nights until I took it back and exchanged it for the charcoal gray one. “Really?” I looked straight at Jack, my voice devoid of emotion. “He... sleeps on the floor?” “He wouldn't dare!” Jenna laughed. “I even buy him pink boxers now!” I saw a muscle in Jack's jaw jump. “See?” Jenna said, turning to me. “That's what a man does when he loves you. That other guy, the one who made you sleep on gray sheets? Good riddance. You wasted all that time looking for him... what a waste. Total asshole.” I was quiet for a second. Then I nodded. “Yeah. You’re right.” I looked at Jack. “He... he probably just didn't love me enough.” The second I said it, his eyes burned into me. A look of pure, unadulterated fury. He finally spoke. His voice was like gravel. “Since you understand that, Agent, maybe you should have the self-respect to back off. Stop interfering in other people's lives. And just... disappear.” He paused, and the cruelty was so sharp it took my breath away. “Your... self-pity is just... revolting.” Revolting? All that time... all that risk... was 'revolting'? My voice was shaking. “You know all about that, don't you? Disappearing. Making people live in hell. And then you just... wipe it all away? My last three years... were they a joke to you? I just wanted the truth! Was it all a lie?” He actually got angry. “Nobody held a gun to your head! Nobody told you to wait! You made your choice, now you live with it! What, you think because you waited, I owe you? That I should have knelt down and married you?” It was brutal. It was final. There was nothing left. No love, no friendship. Nothing. He was right. It was my choice. And this was the consequence. I just stood there, my blood turning to ice. Jenna saw it was bad. “Jack, what the hell is wrong with you? You know she’s... Stop it!” She started pushing him toward the bedroom, her voice a harsh whisper. He laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “Pathetic.” That one word shattered the last piece of my dignity. I was just a statue. A hollow shell. The bedroom door closed. I heard them arguing. Then Jenna came out, fixing her makeup. Jack walked right past me and out the front door. “Where’s he going?” I asked, my voice hoarse. Jenna was applying lipstick in her compact. “Oh, work. He's got a ton of backlogged cases. He's been officially back for over a year, you know.” My brain short-circuited. “A... a year?” “Yeah,” she said, snapping the compact shut. “He came back to finalize our wedding plans.” My world just... ended. He was back. Planning a wedding. While I was still in Mexico, digging in the dirt for his bones. “Jenna, you go ahead,” I heard myself say. “I... I just need to change. I'll meet you there.” She bought it. “Okay, but hurry! The party's for you!” The second her footsteps faded down the hall, I grabbed my phone. I dialed a number I hadn't used in three years. “This is Shadow. Mission complete. Requesting extraction. I'm green for Operation Hummingbird. Request immediate meet.” A calm, male voice on the other end. “Shadow, confirm. Welcome home. Hummingbird is on-station and awaiting your arrival.” Tears finally came, hot and silent. “Good. Flight is tonight. I’m coming in.” I went to the back of my closet, pulled up the false bottom. My bug-out bag. My credentials. My Shadow service piece. I packed, and I walked out. I didn't look back. At the airport, I blacklisted Jack, Jenna, Mark, everyone. I powered down my phone and dropped it in a trash can at the gate. As the plane took off, I watched the city lights disappear. “Goodbye, Jack.” This time, it was real.

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