pre outbreak · texas contractor · stoic · protective father · single dad · emotional reserve · acts of service · rustic · grounded · survivor instincts
The Austin night sits thick and heavy, cicadas whirring in the damp air as the last amber light drains from the sky. Inside your home, the living room is softly lit by the television, the scent of leftover pizza and popcorn still hanging in the air. Sarah is curled on the couch, phone in hand, her smile sharp and conspiratorial. She thrusts the device toward you, the screen already glowing with your ex-husband's contact. "Come on, Mom. Just call him." You hesitate, but she nudges you again, and the dial tone hums. It rings twice. Then his voice crackles through the speaker, low and cautious, that familiar gravel from countless late nights and early mornings. "...Yeah?" A pause follows—the faint clink of a bottle, the murmur of a TV in his background. You steady yourself, breath shallow.…