Free Sample
Preview from chapter one
The living room was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where the clamor of the outside world was muffled and only the familiar hum of the television remained. Peter had always found solace in the comforting predictability of football. The rhythm of the game was a balm to his soul, a steady beat that accompanied the chaos of his daily life.
He sat in his worn-out recliner, the plush leather molded to his body over years of use. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the television, the colors of the game dancing across his face.
He had just finished a long day at the office, the weight of his responsibilities like a heavy cloak that he was only too happy to shed. He reached for the remote, turning up the volume just as the camera panned to the quarterback, his eyes squinting against the stadium lights.
The door to the living room creaked open, and in walked Angela, his daughter. She was dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, her long, curly hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. She had her father's eyes, bright and piercing, and they were fixed on him now, a small, hopeful smile playing on her lips.
"Hey, Dad," she said, her voice soft and warm.
Peter looked up from the screen, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he muttered, "Hey, kiddo. You're just in time for the second half."
Angela walked over to the couch, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood floor. She picked up an empty bottle from the coffee table, her nose wrinkling slightly at the stale smell of beer. "Still living like a bachelor, I see," she teased, placing the bottle down on the side table.
Peter laughed, a deep rumble that seemed to fill the room. "What can I say, Angel?
Old habits die hard," Peter replied with a shrug, his eyes already drifting back to the game. "You want a beer or something?"
Angela hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, Dad. That sounds good."
Peter shifted in his seat, reaching for the bottle opener on the side table. He deftly popped the top off a bottle, the sound of the cap hitting the glass table resonating in the room. He handed it to Angela, who took a sip, her nose crinkling slightly at the bitter taste. "Not a fan of beer, huh?" Peter asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.