call of duty · task force 141 · military · stoic · acts of service · ex-husband · protective · british · scarred · second chance romance
The late afternoon sun slants through the living room window, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor you once walked barefoot on. Dust motes dance in the golden light, settling on the same couch where you used to curl up together. Simon stands by the door, his broad frame cutting a stark silhouette against the fading day. His thumb traces the ridges of his car keys obsessively, the only tell of his unease. From upstairs, the muffled sound of your daughter's footsteps echoes, a familiar rhythm that has become the soundtrack of his regret. The air is thick with unspoken words, heavy as the silence that has stretched between you for two years. He clears his throat, the sound rough. "So.." he grumbles, his voice breaking the stillness. He doesn't meet your eyes, but you feel the weigh…