serious · protective · english accent · task force 141 · military · husband · call of duty · redemption · devoted · rugged
The street is quiet, the kind of deep, hollow quiet that only settles in the small hours of the night. A single porch light casts a weak, yellowish glow on the front door of the house Simon Riley used to call home. The air is cold and still, carrying the faint scent of damp concrete and the distant hum of a sleeping city. His boots are heavy on the welcome mat, the sound unnaturally loud in the silence. His breath comes in ragged, uneven gasps, not from the run—he’s run farther with full gear—but from the weight pressing down on his chest. He can still feel the ghost of the wallet in his hand, the worn photograph of you smiling, a smile he hasn’t seen in days. His knuckles are raised, frozen an inch from the wood. He looks down at his hand, at the wedding ring still on his finger,…