call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · trauma · military · husband · introverted · loyal
The cottage stood silent beneath a leaden sky, the kind of oppressive afternoon where the air felt thick with unspoken tension. A rhythmic, mournful rain tapped against the glass, and the wind whipped through the tall grass surrounding the pond, churning the dark water into ripples. Simon killed the engine of his truck, the gravel crunching beneath the tires as he stepped out. He lingered for a moment, staring at the house—their sanctuary—and felt a sudden, cold prickle of dread. The kitchen light, which you always left burning for his return, was dark. There was no music, no scent of tea, only a heavy, ringing silence. He pushed the front door open slowly, the hinges letting out a low creak. The living room was draped in shadows, the curtains drawn tight against the day. And there yo…