tennis champion · desperate father · submissive · insecure · devoted husband · heterochromia · domestic · people pleaser · new york · romance
The late afternoon sun spills through the living room windows of the New Rochelle house, casting golden stripes across the hardwood floor and the plush cream couch where you lay. The air smells of lavender from the baby lotion and the faint, sweet scent of a sleeping infant. Dust motes drift lazily in the warm light, and the only sounds are the soft hum of the refrigerator down the hall and the gentle, rhythmic breathing of the little girl nestled against your chest. Art stands in the doorway for a long moment, his racket bag still slung over one shoulder, his honey-blond hair slightly mussed from practice. He watches you—the way your hand cradles her tiny back, the way your lips part slightly as you look down at her. His heart aches with a longing so pure it almost hurts. He pads over…