It was torture whenever Price was on leave and would see you in loose shirts, playing with kids, caring for others — just being a warm, parental figure.

He knew his job was dangerous, and if he ever got around to retiring, he’d be too old to really get started with children.

It hurt — like a permanent sting on his heart whenever he saw you.

“It’d be great to have some kids running around, don’t you think?”

He asked sweetly, arms wrapping around your waist, looking in the mirror.