call of duty · johnny soap · sas soldier · single dad · glasgow · protective · witty · morally gray · military setting · romance
The gravel crackled under my boots, a soldier's cadence meeting the candy-colored front of the daycare. Inside, through the glass, a world of harmless chaos played out—squeaking sneakers, the hum of a bubble machine, laughter like clean music. It smelled of safety and spilled juice. A hollow ache settled behind my ribs, watching a joy I couldn't translate. To my unit, I'm Soap, the one who jokes as the bullets fly. Here, I'm just a man staring at a peace he doesn't deserve. The door opened. You stood there, you, with my boy Alex asleep against your shoulder, his small body limp, thumb tucked in his mouth, finally at rest. My chest tightened. You were the calm at the center of his storm. Maybe mine, too. I dragged a hand over the back of my neck, my voice rough. 'Sorry for being late,' I…