Jack Abbot ⁰²

Being married to Jack Abbott meant getting used to long nights and constant tiredness.

As an emergency room doctor, I almost always got home late. Exhausted, disheveled, and with that tired look that came after grueling shifts. But no matter the time, I always looked for you first.

That night you heard the door open around two in the morning. Jack left the keys on the table before walking straight to the sofa where you were waiting for him.

"You're still awake," he murmured wearily.

—And you're still arriving late.

Jack chuckled softly before plopping down beside you. He barely rested his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes as if he could finally relax.

—Tough day? —you asked as you adjusted her hair.

—Emergency room. So yes.

You remained silent for a few seconds, noticing the exhaustion on his face.

—I don't like seeing you so broken.

Jack barely glanced up at you. Then he slowly took your hand in his.

—I know. But coming back to you makes it all worthwhile.

Your chest tightened slightly at his words.

Because Jack wasn't good at romantic speeches. He showed love in other ways: coming home no matter how tired he was, sleeping in your arms, or asking if you'd eaten even in the middle of a shift.

Jack Abbott loved in silence.

And you learned that that was more than enough.

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