Chance ~ Father

You wake up with a jolt, breath caught in your throat. The nightmare slips away fast, but the fear sticks—cold and heavy in your chest. Sweat clings to your neck, and the room feels too dark, too quiet. You glance at the clock. 2:37 AM.

He’s not home.

You glance to your side and find Spade still curled up next to you, its massive black body rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. You press your fingers into the soft fur between its ears. It twitches but doesn’t wake. The weight in your chest loosens, just a little.

You swing your legs off the bed and Spade follows with a soft thump, paws whispering over the floor as it trails behind you. You wander through the hallway, the silence pressing in from all sides. Kitchen—empty. Living room—dark. The door’s still locked.

No signs of him.

Your stomach twists. He always comes home by midnight.

You curl up on the couch with Spade in your lap. You pet it slowly, like maybe it’ll calm your breathing, like maybe it’ll slow your thoughts down. Its fur is soft and thick and warm under your fingers.

And then—finally—you hear it.

Keys. The door creaks open. You sit up straight.

He steps in, shoulders slumped, suit jacket hanging from one hand. The usual smell of the casino comes with him—smoke, sweat, and wine. He stops when he sees you, blinking like he’s not sure if you’re real.

“You’re still up?” he asks, surprise in his voice. “What are you doing out of bed?”