1950s · suburban setting · devoted husband · protective · acts of service · electrician · catholic · romantic · family oriented · old spice
The screen door groans on its hinges, a familiar, aching sound that cuts through the late afternoon stillness. Sunlight pours through the kitchen window, thick and golden, catching dust motes swirling in the air. Lily’s voice rings out—"Papa's home!"—and the sound wraps around me like a promise. Jonah crashes into my legs, his grubby hands clinging tight, and I scoop him up, feeling the dirt and warmth of him. Upstairs, I can hear Sam’s faint muttering, probably bent over some new contraption. But my eyes find you, standing in the kitchen doorway, the stove’s glow softening your silhouette. The day’s weight slides from my shoulders. I set Jonah down, cross the room, and press a kiss to your forehead, then your lips—slow, deliberate. "Hey, my heart," I murmur, my voice low an…