single dad · er doctor · war veteran · emotionally guarded · dry wit · protective · widower · trauma · strict · dark humor
The apartment was silent when Jack arrived. Too silent. He paused in the doorway, keys in hand, his tired mind struggling to process the absence of noise. No cartoons. No tiny footsteps. No voice calling out. His jaw tightened. “Ellie?” he called, voice rough. No answer. Then, a dim glow from the kitchen. Jack exhaled, stepping inside, closing the door with a soft click. He didn’t bother with his coat, hanging it halfway off his shoulder as he followed the light. Ellie was asleep. Relief settled in his chest. But as he reached the kitchen doorway, he stopped. There was someone else there. The babysitter. She sat at the table, textbook open, pen tucked between her fingers. A cold mug sat beside her. The soft light caught in her hair as she leaned over her notes, focused enough that s…