Where It's Just Us

The house no longer echoed with silence. It breathed with laughter, with conversations that started casually and ended in soft silences, and with a sense of comfort Angel hadn't felt in a long time.

Captain Dewson had taken official leave from duty — not just a casual break, but one filed through military protocol, stamped, approved, and swiftly executed. "My soldier is wounded," he told his superiors. "And this mission is personal."

Angel had laughed when he told her that, but it warmed something deep inside her.

This week was theirs.

No classes. No uniforms. No whispers. Just Angel, her dad, her slowly healing body, and time — precious time.

Monday morning started with yam porridge and papaya juice. Angel groaned at the full tray, but Captain Dewson sat opposite her, arms folded.

"You're not leaving that seat till you finish. Doctor's orders."

"You're scarier than the doctor," she muttered, but she picked up the spoon.

He smiled. "Good."

After breakfast, they played a quiet round of chess. Angel lost, obviously. But she claimed it was sabotage.

"I'm recovering. You should let me win."

"There are no shortcuts in war, soldier," he replied with a smirk.

"You're impossible," she groaned.

Tuesday was movie day. Captain Dewson selected an old war film, and Angel rolled her eyes dramatically.

"Can't we watch something with dancing or love?"

"This is love," he said, gesturing to the battle scene. "Brotherhood. Sacrifice. Honor."

Angel shook her head. "You need help."

But by the end, she was tearing up a little. And when he handed her tissue without a word, she smiled.

They made pancakes that afternoon — well, Angel tried. It ended with flour on her cheeks and eggshells in the batter.

"I miss Mom," she said suddenly.

Captain Dewson paused, then nodded. "So do I. Every day."

They didn't say more. They didn't need to.

Wednesday brought a spark of curiosity.

"Did you really train Andrew?" Angel asked after lunch.

Captain Dewson blinked. "Hmm?"

"I mean… like self-defense. Did you teach him?"

He set his glass down. "Yes. Not full-blown military stuff — just enough to make him confident. I wanted him to feel strong, not afraid."

Angel's voice softened. "Can I learn too? Not too much… just enough to protect myself. Eventually."

His expression changed—gentle, proud. "Of course. When you're ready."

"Not like army crawl and 4 a.m. wake-up drills," she added quickly.

"No, no. Just basic awareness. Breathing. Movement. Confidence." He winked. "Girl power, right?"

She laughed.

Thursday morning, she stood barefoot on the lawn in leggings and a sweatshirt.

Captain Dewson guided her through light motions. How to stand. How to stay balanced. How to avoid panic in a tight moment.

"You're doing well," he said as she mimicked a move.

Angel grinned. "I know. I'm awesome."

He chuckled. "You punch like Andrew."

She raised a brow. "You keep saying that."

"It's a compliment."

That evening, as the stars began to appear, they sat on the balcony with warm cocoa.

"Gist me," Captain Dewson said.

"About?"

"School. What's happening in that jungle of yours?"

Angel leaned her head back and sighed. "Where do I start…"

"Start with those two boys—Jordan and Victor," he said slyly. "The ones I saw hovering beside your hospital bed like worried bodyguards."

Angel groaned. "You noticed that?"

"Of course I did. I'm trained to notice."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "They're… okay."

"'Okay' doesn't make boys panic over a girl in the clinic."

"Victor can be annoying," she admitted, "but he's decent. And Jordan is just… always there. Quiet, sweet."

Captain Okoro raised a brow. "Just friends?"

"Honestly, I don't even know. I don't think I'm ready for anything more."

He nodded, eyes thoughtful. "Good. There's no rush. You're healing. And when you're whole, you'll know who's real."

There was a quiet pause. Then she added, "But it's not just boys. I have friends now."

His face lit up. "Tell me."

"Mimi's dramatic and funny. She makes everything feel fun. Kelly V is Victor's twin—completely different from him. Juliet is quiet and a bit mysterious… We're not close, but we talk sometimes."

He listened quietly.

"Oh! And there's this JSS2 girl named Karen. Keeps calling me 'school mother.' She brings me plantain chips, like she's feeding me for my birthday."

Captain Okoro burst into laughter. "So you've got a daughter now? Should I buy diapers?"

"Daddy!" Angel howled, covering her face with her hands.

"You're building a community, Angel. That's good."

"Still feels weird sometimes," she admitted. "Being happy without them."

His eyes dimmed slightly. "That guilt? It never fully goes. But you keep living anyway. For them. And for yourself."

Angel stared at him. "Do you miss Mom a lot?"

His voice cracked slightly. "Every second."

They didn't say anything for a long time.

Then Angel reached out and held his hand.

Friday was soft. They baked together. He played her favorite songs. They danced a little in the living room — terribly, but happily.

At night, she caught him looking at her old family picture. His thumb brushed over his late wife's face… then over Andrew's.

Angel came beside him. "They'd be proud of us, right?"

He nodded, holding back tears. "They already are."

Saturday morning, her ulcer medicine sat in front of her bowl.

"More papaya?" he asked.

"Please," she said, voice small but content.

"Coming right up."

Captain Dewson — a seasoned soldier, defender of territories — now gently sliced fruit for his only daughter.

Not just her protector, but her mother, her best friend, her shield, and her biggest reminder:

That even after great loss, family could still mean something beautiful.