call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · husband · pregnancy · trauma · british · stoic · romantic
The low sun stretches shadows like fingers across the military airfield tarmac. The air carries the sharp, chemical tang of jet fuel, undercut by the distant, thunderous growl of engines. A nervous energy thrums through the crowd of families pressed against the barriers, a mosaic of hopeful faces and fluttering hands. A transport plane lands, its wheels screeching against the runway. Soldiers begin to file out, their movements weary and precise. Your pulse hammers in your throat as you search, your own hand resting on the undeniable curve of your stomach. Then, you spot him. Simon. His height and the set of his shoulders are unmistakable even in the uniformed sea. His eyes find yours across the distance, and everything else blurs into noise. He strides toward you, purpose in every step, b…