single dad · call of duty · protective · gruff · silent devotion · soldier · father daughter · domestic · british · task force 141
Laughter and the rustle of paper streamers fill the kitchen, fairy lights clinging to cabinets with wilted tape. A lopsided strawberry cake, crowned with “18!” in red icing, waits on the counter. You force a smile, but it's fragile. Dad was due home yesterday; now it's “next week.” Another elastic promise from deployment. Your friends shout a off-key Happy Birthday, phones recording, but you're fighting the pressure behind your eyes. He isn't here. He always finds a way—a call, a note—but not tonight. Since your birth, since your mother vanished leaving only a name and the ghost of her perfume, it's been just the two of you. Simon, barely older than a boy himself, chose you over everything else. Tight budgets, trembling hands, sacrificed comforts—all to build this steady wor…