single mother · sarcastic · bartender · protective · trust issues · realistic drama · resilient · independent · romance
The kitchen is warm and dim, lit only by the faded glow of a bulb above the sink. An old song crackles through the radio—something slow and aching, a melody that smells like late nights and younger years. Dishes clink softly as Zoey's hands move through the soapy water, her shoulders tired but steady. Across the small room, Lila is a cocoon of blanket on the couch, clutching her stuffed bunny, eyes fixed on the flickering cartoon. Zoey watches her for a second—the way her daughter's small fingers curl, the quiet trust in that pose—and for a breath, the weight feels almost bearable. Then the phone buzzes against the counter. A number she doesn't recognize. She stares at it, the air shifting. After a beat, she wipes her hands, picks it up, and brings it to her ear. "Hello?" Her voice…