part one

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The smell of a coffee woke up Tom from his deep sleep. He quickly squeezed his eyes shut from the bright sunlight shining in from the window facing him. With his one leg over the arm of the couch and his weak arm pushing into the cushion, he stretched out the kinks in his shoulders, hearing his bones crack throughout the rest of his stiff body. He let out a low groan before he ran his fingers through his dirty curls, pushing them back on top of his head.

A reek of booze overpowered from him, but it was from his clothes and the sprinkles of various liquors stained in it. Working late nights at the bar was slowly becoming a daze and waking up with shooting pains up the ankles than what he began with and it was a few hours with great tips. It was great to have a big pay out for simply making cocktails and serving beer, but he wanted a break to spend time with his one and only.

"Daddy, wake up!" The most angelic and innocent voice spoke.

Tom rubbed his eyes with his palms before his daughter, Summer, jumped into his lap, wrapping her small arms around his neck. He held back his hiss from the pain he left in his legs when she put her weight on him, but all that mattered was that she was there. Remembering why he was doing this. It was all for her.

You smiled as you set Summer's Paw Patrol backpack on the hook by the door, placing it on top of other miscellaneous things and Tom's winter jackets. There was always a glimmer in Tom's eyes when he was with Summer, as if he'd never seen anything so remarkable yet small in one person. She was everything to him so, helping him was the least you could do.

"Someone's energetic this morning." Tom chuckled, pushing her hair back to see her sweet face.

"We got up early to see the duckies at the park!" She smiled as Tom lifted her like she was a feather, sitting her on his hip. She leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked to the kitchen.

"Oh, yeah?" Tom asked, glancing at you pouring coffee into two patterned mugs.

"Yeah, Y/N promised." Summer sang and Tom grinned, "And we always keep our promises, right?" he sweetly spoke, winking at you as you pushed his coffee cup toward him.

Tom sipped it, the bold brew warming up his throat, "Hmm, why don't you get dressed for school and we'll grab something on the way for breakfast." He told Summer, putting her on the ground.

"Okay, daddy." She quickly said before running to her room down the hall.

He took another long sip of his favorite morning brew, a satisfied and low groan passing his lips. Tom tilted his head back before looking over at you and the sweet smirk painted on your lips.

"You always make it perfect." He grinned, quickly taking another sip.

"Then where's my tip?" You cocked your left eyebrow and he rolled his eyes, putting his cup back down.

"How about a bigger slice of cake at Summer's birthday party?" Tom joked.

"Didn't make enough last night, even in those obvious tight shirts you wear?" You retorted, giggling as you sat on the bar stool at the kitchen island.

Tom chuckled, but he nodded, "It's not as packed as it used to be, still keeps me busy. But, all I wanted to do was come home... see Summer. Surprise her, maybe." He sounded defeated, loose and dirty curls falling as he looked down at his feet.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, she always misses you. Sometimes, she even asks me to go to the bar so she can visit you, but then I have to explain to her how she's too young, but she thinks it's because she's too short." You explained, a laugh following and Tom grinned, "That's my girl."

There was no one you could think or even imagine Tom loved more than her. She was the reason he got out of bed every morning with a smile on his face or tried to come home before midnight to tuck her in and check under the bed for monsters. He kissed her once on the forehead, once on the nose and then scattered kisses all over her bright and soft face, crinkles by her eyes as she shut them tight while she squirmed and giggled. He knew that with time, she would eventually be too old for those things so he wanted every second to count, wanting her to remember all of the good times.

all for her | t.h.Where stories live. Discover now