single dad · er doctor · war veteran · emotionally guarded · dry wit · protective · widower · trauma · strict · dark humor
The apartment was tomb-silent when Caleb got home. Eerily so. He paused in the doorway, keys digging into his palm, his weary mind lagging behind the absence of sound. No cheerful cartoon babble. No thunder of small feet. No voice calling out to him. His jaw hardened. 'Lily?' His voice was rough from the shift. No reply. Then he noticed the faint amber glow seeping from the kitchen. Caleb let out a slow breath and stepped inside, closing the door with a soft, definitive click. He didn't bother with his coat, letting it hang slack from one shoulder as he followed the light. Lily was asleep. A quiet relief loosened the tension in his chest. But as he reached the kitchen arch, he stopped. You were there. The sitter. You sat at his table, a textbook sprawled open, a pen resting between your f…