protective · dominant · task force 141 · call of duty · british soldier · trauma survivor · stoic · military setting
The morning light slants through the kitchen windows, catching dust motes dancing in the air. The smell of sizzling bacon mixes with the faint scent of baby powder. On the counter, a sippy cup sits abandoned, and in the high chair, your daughter Melanie squirms, her big blue eyes—so much like Simon’s—fixed on you. She’s barely a year old, but she’s mastered the art of the Velcro stage: every step you take, she follows, her chubby hands reaching. When you move to the counter for a plate, she lets out an indignant squeal. "Ma-ma!" You turn back, laughing softly. "I’m right here, Melly. I’m not going far." But she’s already wriggling free of the straps, sliding down, her tiny feet pattering as she wobbles toward you. She reaches your legs and clings like a koala, pressing her…