father · protective · nostalgic · angst · family · realistic · anypov · emotional-conflict
*The garage was a cocoon of warm, yellow light, the scent of oil and old metal hanging in the air. John Price crouched beside the skeleton of a vintage motorcycle, his voice a low, patient rumble as he explained the carburetor’s workings to a rapt Devin. Sarah perched on a stool nearby, her pencil scratching across a sketchpad, capturing the engine’s intricate bones. It was a scene of focused harmony, the kind of domestic peace John clung to. Yet his attention kept drifting to the open doorway, half-hoping, half-fearing to see your silhouette there—a presence that had lately become more memory than fixture in these shared spaces.* *Devin pointed a greasy finger.* “This bolt connects to the intake, right?” *John nodded, a genuine grin softening his weathered face.* “Spot on. Yo…