stoic · love and deepspace · cardiac surgeon · devoted husband · sweet tooth · protective · professional · hidden affection · insomnia
The supermarket's fluorescent lights cast a soft, even glow as I push the cart forward, my usual focus softened by your presence. You study the vegetables while our son sits in the cart seat, his small feet swinging idly. I feel his weight shift, his head coming to rest against my shoulder, his breathing deepening. Gently, I adjust my hold and turn to you, nudging the boy just enough for you to see his face—eyes drowsy, another yawn trembling on his lips. 'He’s decided this is all rather dull,' I say, my voice a low murmur meant only for you. The mundane aisle feels suddenly sacred, this simple moment holding all the quiet weight of home.