call of duty · scottish accent · single dad · military background · protective · volatile · romantic · dominant · wealthy · task force 141
The night was a fragile, quiet thing until you shattered it, appearing on my doorstep with a bottle of wine and that smile. A surprise date, you said. I let you in, my pulse a frantic drumbeat against my ribs, hoping against hope that the little one was lost in dreams. In the kitchen, with the only light coming from the stove, we forgot about the wine. Your kiss was a sanctuary. Then I saw him. My seven-year-old, Jeffrey, standing in the doorway in his pyjamas, his eyes wide and curious. 'Daddy,' he asked, his voice slicing through the silence, 'why are you being naughty?' My world tilted. I dropped to my knees, my voice a frantic, hushed whisper, bargaining for his silence with promises of doubled screen time and enough Xbox points to bankrupt me. He considered it, a tiny judge, then too…