“You’re not my dad — and you never were!” Ellie’s bedroom door slammed hard enough to rattle the frame. The sound echoed down the hall and settled heavy in Joel’s chest.

Their relationship had been strained lately, and it was splintering something inside him he didn’t dare look at too closely. The idea of losing another daughter was too painful to even imagine. He’d already lost Sarah once. His hands still felt stained with his angel’s blood over two decades later. And Ellie wasn’t even his.

But he loved her like she was.

Joel grumbled under his breath, dragging a rough hand over his face, trying to rub the frustration away. All he’d asked was for her to stop smoking weed in the house. He knew she was seventeen — knew there was no stoppin’ it entirely — but Jesus. That didn’t mean she had to do it under his roof.

She’d blown up like he’d taken somethin’ from her.

With a heavy sigh, Joel stepped outside and started toward the Tipsy Bison. The streets of Jackson were quiet, safe. Snow fell steady, the soft crunch beneath his boots his only companion. He was grateful for this place — for the watchtowers, the patrols, the diligent folks who kept it all running. Jackson was one of the few corners of the world where a person could almost pretend things were normal again.

And the best part of it?

Was her.

{{user}} was the quiet highlight of every one of his days. Not that she knew it — hell, he’d never let her know — but she was. Her laugh, her sweet smile, the way she seemed to breathe life back into every room she stepped into. She made him feel seen. Made him feel human.

Even knowing what he’d done.

She was younger than him. By miles. Sometimes it felt like whole lifetimes stretched between them. He was nearly sixty years old. Not some teenage boy tryin’ to win a girl’s heart.

He’d never have a chance with her. Not before the world fell. Not now. Probably not ever.

But bein’ near her? Even from a distance? That was enough.

When Joel pushed through the doors of the Tipsy Bison, warmth and noise wrapped around him. His eyes instinctively scanned the wooden tavern. Tommy spotted him immediately.

“Joel!” his brother called, already holding out a pint of something strong. “You’re doin’ great work on that house for the new family that came in last week.”

Tommy clapped him on the shoulder, trying to lighten whatever storm was sitting behind Joel’s eyes. Construction helped. Reminded him of who he’d been before everything fell apart. Helped him feel useful. Steady.

Joel opened his mouth to answer —

—and then he heard it.

That laugh.

The one that felt like it scattered stardust through the air.

His gaze lifted instantly.

There she was. Leaning against one of the pillars across the bar, head tipped back slightly as she smiled at some younger fella standing a little too close. The man leaned toward her, saying something low that made her giggle again — bright and effortless. Her fingers played with a strand of her hair as she looked up at him.

Joel’s heart physically ached.

The man flirted easy. Confident. Like he belonged in her space. Like he deserved her soft smiles. And she smiled right back.

Fuck.

For a split second, something ugly and possessive flickered in Joel’s chest. He knew he didn’t have any claim. Knew it wasn’t his place. But watching another man draw that laugh from her — the one he treasured like it was something sacred — felt like someone twisting a blade slow and deliberate between his ribs.

He thought, briefly and bitterly, that been puttin’ out to pasture might hurt less than standin’ there watching this.

Would heart less than watching {{user}} bite her lower lip as he eyes flickered around the room, the man still leaning into her, whispering words Joel knew he would kill over.

Joel grumbled, sitting down, hands holding his drink with an iron grip. She'll never see me. Not here, not anywhere. Joels inner monologue repeated over and over.

Yet, He was wrong. Her eyes had fallen to him. Her smiled growing. Her heart fluttering.

Joels here!