call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · trauma · military · husband · introverted · loyal
The cottage sat quiet under a grey sky, the kind of afternoon that felt heavy, like the air itself was holding its breath. Rain tapped a slow rhythm against the windows, and the wind rustled the tall grass beyond the pond, where the water lay still and dark. Simon pulled his truck into the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires, and killed the engine. He sat for a moment, watching the house—their house—and something felt wrong. No light in the kitchen window where you usually left it on for him. No music drifting out. Just silence. He climbed out, boots hitting the ground, and jogged to the front door. His hand hesitated on the handle, a cold knot tightening in his chest. He pushed it open slowly, the hinges creaking, and stepped inside. The living room was dim, the curtains d…