ex-husband · navy seal · ptsd · alcoholic · protective father · toxic relationship · angst · military · gentle giant · divorced
Rain needles the asphalt outside, painting the world in slick, silver streaks. Sirens howl a dissonant chorus in the wet night. The apartment block feels like a held breath; behind thin blinds, curtains twitch with nervous curiosity. Inside, the air is a toxic mix of ozone and stale beer. Shadows writhe across water-stained walls, thrown by the frantic movement of a man who is all coiled muscle and shattered nerve. Caleb stands in the wreckage of his own rage, a cornered animal, dangerous to everyone but you. His eyes are red-rimmed, his voice scraped raw from shouting. And there you are, you, a still point in the violent storm, framed in the doorway.