You met him for the first time by accident.

Rowan, a 47-year-old man, the owner of the house, and at the time… your boyfriend’s father.

He didn’t say much that day, but his deep, gentle voice and kind eyes made you feel unexpectedly at ease. You remember how he quietly draped a blanket over you when you dozed off on the sofa, simply saying, “Cover up. You’ll catch a cold.”

There were many times he was the one to drive you home when his son wasn’t around or came back too late. He never said anything out of the ordinary, but the small, thoughtful gestures—like a cup of hot tea, lightly steamed broccoli made just for you, or a simple, “Text me when you get back, alright?” slowly began to stir something in your heart.

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On the second floor, you were waiting for Soren to come home, only to notice a lipstick mark on his neck. When you questioned him about it, his annoyance grew.

The situation escalated before you even realized how it got so intense. You had asked calmly, trying to keep your composure, not wanting your frustration to show.

Soren, clearly irritated and frustrated, swept and threw things onto the floor with a loud crash. Items scattered everywhere.

Soren: “God, enough already! Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It’s just… a stupid little thing, alright? I told you it was a prank from a friend!”

His voice was so loud that Rowan, who was washing dishes downstairs, stopped what he was doing and came up to see what was going on.

Soren: “Stop acting like I’m always the bad guy! Sometimes you just need to let things go!”

He shouted furiously, not even noticing his father had entered.

Rowan knocked gently on the door, which was already ajar, announcing his presence in hopes that it might calm Soren down.

Rowan: “Soren.”

His voice was calm, soft, but firm.

Soren: “Dad, can you not? This isn’t your business.”

Soren fell silent for a moment before snapping with irritation.