Chapter 5
Ethan
The second Ethan stepped inside the house, the familiar scent of garlic, tomatoes, and fresh basil wrapped around him like a warm embrace. His stomach rumbled in appreciation as he shut the door behind him, shrugging off the weight of the day.
From the living room, the soft British accents of the Great British Bake Off floated into the hallway, along with his mother’s gentle laughter and his dad’s low grumbling.
“Look at him, all smug and judging people’s cakes,” his dad muttered.
“You’re just jealous, Joseph,” his mom teased.
“I’m not jealous.”
“You totally are,” Ethan called, smirking as he headed for the kitchen.
His dinner sat waiting for him in the microwave, covered neatly with a plate. He opened the door and the scent of his mom’s famous spaghetti hit him—rich tomato sauce, perfectly seasoned meat, and just the right amount of butter and a little extra sugar to make it her recipe.
He inhaled deeply, grinning. His absolute favorite.
He leaned against the counter, watching the microwave count down, before calling over his shoulder. “You are jealous, Dad. Admit it. Paul Hollywood has the best hair in the game, and you hate it.”
His mother cackled, and his dad groaned. “Not you too.”
Ethan smirked as the microwave beeped. He grabbed a fork, twirled a bite of pasta, and groaned in satisfaction.
His mom appeared in the doorway, arms crossed but smiling. “Good?”
“Perfect,” he mumbled through a mouthful.
“I added extra butter,” she said knowingly.
He pointed his fork at her. “That’s why you’re the best.”
She ruffled his hair, even though he ducked away from it. “Come sit with us when you’re done.”
He polished off his food quickly, craving the family time as much as he craved the meal.
When he entered the living room, he was greeted not by Ranger running to him, but by Ranger curled up on the couch, head resting on his mother’s lap, completely at ease.
Ethan stopped mid-step, putting his hands on his hips. “ Excuse me? ”
Ranger didn’t even lift his head.
His mom stroked Ranger’s ears lovingly, giving Ethan a cheeky grin. “He’s off-duty, honey. He’s mine now.”
Ethan pointed at the dog. “You traitor. ”
His mom laughed. “Oh, don’t be jealous. I don’t mind loaning him out to you for work. I know he keeps you safe.”
Ethan huffed, dropping onto the couch beside his dad, who was nursing a cup of tea. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just lucky I allow this betrayal.”
His dad snorted. “Face it, son. You were replaced the second Ranger figured out who gives the best belly rubs.”
Ethan reached out, ruffling Ranger’s fur. The dog stretched, blinked lazily, then went right back to snuggling against his mom.
“Unbelievable.”
Ethan leaned back, content, as the show continued. The contestants were struggling with pastry lamination, which was nothing new, but his mom watched with rapt attention.
She sighed dreamily. “I love Ranger, then Paul Hollywood, then you, then Dad.”
His dad choked on his tea. “Excuse me?”
She smiled sweetly. “What?”
“Why does Ethan outrank me?”
She shrugged. “He’s family. You’re just a close friend. ”
Ethan burst out laughing, doubling over as his dad threw his hands in the air.
“This is ridiculous. I have given you a lifetime of loyalty, woman!”
His mom patted his knee. “Yes, yes. And I’m very fond of you.”
Ethan wheezed, wiping his eyes.
The moment settled into something warm, something beautifully normal.
His dad nudged him. “How was work?”
Ethan stretched his legs out. “Not bad. Oh—funny thing. I’m working a side job for a guy I pulled over a few days ago.”
His mom raised a brow. “You’re doing handyman work for someone you ticketed ?”
Ethan smirked. “Didn’t give him a ticket. Just a warning. Nice guy. But…” His smirk faded slightly. “He seems really sad.”
His mom hummed, thoughtful. “Sad about what?”
Ethan looked thoughtful. “His wife passed away.”
His dad took a sip of his tea. “Well, whoever he is, I hope God watches over him. That type of grief is terrifying.”
Ethan just shrugged. “Yeah”
The show continued, filling the room with the comforting hum of British accents and baking disasters.
Ethan sat back, soaking it all in. The smell of his mom’s lotion—the kind she used for pain relief—mixed with the lingering scent of Italian food. His dad grumbled about the contestants’ failures. His mom laughed, her energy better than it had been in weeks.
This was what he lived for—the moments where everything felt normal.
His stomach growled suddenly.
His mom smirked. “Want more spaghetti?”
Ethan groaned. “I wish . Now all I want is something sweet.”
His dad chuckled. “That’s what you get for watching a baking show.”
Ethan sighed dramatically. “Tragic.”
His mom patted his knee. “I made brownies; they are on the counter.”
Ethan smiled, jumped up and ran for the kitchen and returned to his seat.
After he finished his brownie, he stretched as he pushed off the couch, rubbing a hand over his face. The warmth of the evening, the full stomach, and the familiar comfort of home made it too easy to stay planted there, but his 5 a.m. alarm would come fast, and he needed some sleep before another long day.
Ranger, still curled up against his mom, barely acknowledged Ethan moving.
“Come on, traitor,” Ethan muttered, giving Ranger’s back a firm rub. “You still sleep in my room.”
Ranger sighed dramatically, then stretched his long legs before hopping down with practiced ease. His mom giggled softly, running her fingers through Ranger’s fur one last time. “Go on, keep my son safe,” she murmured, kissing the top of his head.
Ethan shook his head. “He works for me. You’re the one he actually loves.”
His mom winked, and Ethan turned toward the stairs, Ranger padding silently beside him.
The house was quiet, save for the hum of the fridge and the soft rustling of leaves against the windows. Ethan’s childhood bedroom was just as he’d left it earlier—small, lived-in, filled with remnants of his past and present.
He tossed his shirt into the laundry basket, rubbing the back of his neck.
Ranger circled his kennel, then flopped down inside, head resting on his paws. Off-duty, but always aware.
Ethan shut the lights off and collapsed onto his twin bed, staring at the ceiling. The faded glow-in-the-dark constellations were still up there—old, worn, but steady, just like everything else in this house.
He sighed, letting the exhaustion pull at him. “Another day down, buddy,” he murmured to Ranger.
Ranger let out a low breath in response.
Ethan smiled faintly. It was enough.
The cool morning air hit Ethan’s bare skin as he stepped into the garage, clad only in sweatpants and running shoes. The familiar scent of sawdust, oil, and steel surrounded him, grounding him in the routine that had kept him sane since high school.
Ranger sat near the entrance, watching as Ethan cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders.
“Alright, partner,” Ethan muttered, heading toward the pull-up bar. “Time to talk.”
He gripped the bar and lifted himself, muscles flexing as he started his reps.
“Do you ever wonder how the hell we got here, Ranger?” He exhaled, dropping back down and rolling his neck. “Because I do. All the damn time.”
Ranger tilted his head, listening as Ethan switched to push-ups.
“You weren’t around back then, but I used to think my life was gonna be simple,” Ethan mused, his voice steady between reps. “Graduate, maybe go to trade school, stay in Oregon, work with my hands like Dad.” He paused, shifting positions. “Then the recruiter came to school. Showed us videos of Military Police, K9 units… I saw those dogs working with their handlers and damn —I wanted that. More than anything.”
Ranger sat up a little straighter.
Ethan grinned slightly, adjusting his stance. “Yeah, yeah, you get it.” He picked up the kettlebell, focusing on the movement. “So I enlisted. Air Force. Straight out of high school. Ended up at Osan Air Base in South Korea after training.”
The weight burned as he moved, but he welcomed it.
“That’s where I met Katie,” Ethan said, exhaling slowly. “My first partner.” His lips quirked into a fond smile. “She was a German Shepherd—sharp as hell, tough, but sweet when she wanted to be. I swear, I’ve never worked with a dog that smart.”
Ranger huffed, unimpressed.
Ethan chuckled, switching to lunges. “Relax, you’re still my favorite.”
Ranger wagged his tail once, accepting the compliment.
Ethan’s smile faded slightly. “Leaving her was the hardest part,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “When my enlistment was up, I thought about staying. Thought about re-upping, making a career out of it.”
“But then Mom got sick,” Ethan murmured. “Stage four. Found out just before I was about to sign my next contract.”
The burn in his muscles was nothing compared to the weight on his chest.
“I came home,” he continued, dropping the sandbag and rolling his shoulders. “Figured I’d help them, get a civilian job. Then Dad messed up his back at the shop, and suddenly I couldn’t just help —I had to hold everything together.”
He braced his hands on his knees, breathing deeply.
“I don’t regret it,” he admitted. “But damn , Ranger… some days, it feels like too much.”
Ranger whined softly, ears pricked forward.
Ethan rubbed his jaw, wiping sweat away. “I know, buddy. I know. We’re fine.”
A beat of silence passed and he continued his workout.
Then Ethan clapped his hands together. “Alright.” He pointed at Ranger. “You ready for breakfast?”
Ranger’s ears shot up immediately.
Ethan grinned. “Thought so.”
The house was still quiet when Ethan stepped inside, drying sweat off his neck with a towel. His mom hadn’t come downstairs yet—a rare thing, since she was usually the first one up.
His dad sat at the kitchen table, a bowl of cereal in front of him, a steaming cup of coffee nearby.
“Morning,” Ethan said, grabbing the cereal box.
His dad nodded, watching as Ethan poured himself a bowl and sat down. “You done with your work out?”
Ethan spooned some cereal into his mouth. “Yep.”
His dad hesitated, stirring his coffee. “Your mom had a rough night.”
Ethan’s spoon paused halfway to his mouth.
His dad sighed. “She was up a lot. Couldn’t sleep. Just feeling… weak.”
Ethan swallowed hard. “Did she eat dinner?”
“Yeah, but not much,” his dad admitted. “I think she’s just tired.”
Ethan nodded slowly, setting his spoon down.
His dad rubbed his temple, looking weary. “She’s still trying to act like nothing’s wrong, but…” He trailed off.
Ethan exhaled sharply, glancing toward the stairs. “I’ll check on her before I leave.”
His dad patted his arm, a rare moment of physical reassurance. “She’s strong, son. She’s got us.”
Ethan forced a smile, gripping his dad’s hand briefly before letting go. “Yeah. She does.”
They ate the rest of breakfast in companionable silence, both lost in their thoughts.
For all the weight on his shoulders, Ethan knew one thing for certain—
He wasn’t carrying it alone.