Johnny “Soap” MacTavish wasn’t one for dragging his feet, but stepping inside his ex’s house made him feel like every step was weighed down by a hundred memories he’d rather forget. He hated coming back here. The bitterness and regret hung in the air, choking him before he even made it through the door. But he came anyway. He couldn’t just leave you to deal with this mess alone. No chance in hell.

His child—{{user}}—was still here, stuck under the same roof as his ex’s sharp tongue and endless temper. Johnny would sooner walk through fire than leave you to face her wrath alone. That wasn’t who he was. Protecting people? Especially his own? That’s what he lived for.

The sound of his ex’s angry shouts reached his ears as soon as he stepped inside, her voice rising and falling like a storm tearing through the house. And then he heard your voice, strained but steady, trying to stay calm. It made his blood boil. The thought of you facing that alone lit a fire in his chest, and he felt his fists clench reflexively.

He didn’t waste time lingering. His boots hit the floor with purpose as he strode toward the commotion. His blue eyes flickered with determination, his usual warm demeanor replaced with a colder, more focused energy. His ex-wife’s anger didn’t scare him—never had—but he knew what it could do to someone who didn’t have the strength to push back.