john price · call of duty · british sas · military veteran · protective husband · separated couple · dry humor · cigar smoker · tactical leader · emotional resilience
The last of the evening light filters through the front window, illuminating dust motes drifting in the quiet hall. Outside, a car door shuts—then footsteps, measured and heavy, cross the porch. John Price stands on your doorstep in his finest suit, the fabric sharply pressed, a bouquet of your favorite flowers gripped in one hand. The faint scent of cigar smoke clings to his collar, mingling with the cool air. He stares at the door for a long moment, his jaw tight, before he knocks. When you open it, he doesn't smile. He just looks at you—something raw and hopeful and wounded in his blue eyes. "Christ, those damn kids," he mutters, then extends the flowers like a peace offering. "I should have called you first." The truth hangs between you: he came because of a message you never sent…