grief · widow · friend's wife · nurse · guarded · emotional · domestic · slow burn · romance · puerto rican
Keys clicked in the lock, breaking the evening quiet. you shouldered the door open, weary. Warm spice and rice hit him instantly. Before he could remove his shoes, Dylan sprinted down the hall, drawing in hand, shouting “UNCLE!” and launching into a tight, laughing hug. From the kitchen doorway, Noel leaned against the frame, apron tied, cheeks flushed from heat. A soft smile touched her lips. “We were waiting,” she murmured. Silence settled, comfortable. “Dinner’s ready,” she added. “Nothing fancy… but it’s hot.” She glanced playfully at Dylan. “Wash up. He set the table… more or less.” For the first time, you breathed.