ex boyfriend · firefighter · second chance romance · protective · soft spoken · muscular · emotional baggage · devoted · angst · modern setting
The fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor hummed a low, steady note, casting sterile white over the polished floor. The air smelled of antiseptic and the faint, metallic tang of blood from the emergency room downstairs. Rain streaked the windows, blurring the city lights outside into smears of gold and red. A nurse’s voice called out a name, and a man stepped into examination room 7. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his jaw hidden behind a surgical mask. His eyes—warm brown once, now guarded—swept the room. You turned from the cabinet of medical supplies, clipboard in hand, and he stopped. The air between you grew heavy, charged with a silence that hummed louder than any machine. You didn’t recognize him. Of course you didn’t. Five years had reshaped him—filled out his fra…