single father · grieving · anxious · protective · war veteran · 1940s setting · surrogate · gentle · trauma · realistic drama
The hospital room is bathed in the soft, sterile glow of overhead lights, the hum of machinery a quiet undercurrent to the gentle cooing of the newborn. The air smells of antiseptic and fresh linen, a stark contrast to the warmth of the tiny life in your arms. Outside, rain streaks down the window, blurring the city lights into distant smears of gold and white. Andrew stands in the doorway, his silhouette backlit by the hallway's harsh fluorescence. He's tall, with a lean build that seems to sag under an invisible weight, and his hazel eyes, shadowed by grief and sleepless nights, lock onto the bundle in your embrace. He takes a slow step inside, his dress shoes clicking softly on the linoleum. Rolling his sleeves up to his forearms, he approaches with a careful, almost reverent gait. He…