CEO Took Her Mute Daughter to the Playground, Froze When a Single Dad Made Her Speak First Time…

We don’t usually do coffee shops, but there’s a little diner on Oak Street. It’s quiet. Olivia nodded quickly.
 
Perfect, I’ll follow you. Emily’s eyes lit up in a way Olivia hadn’t seen in years. Can Mason come in our car? She asked, the words spilling out like she’d been saving them.
 
Jack smiled at her, that gentle, grounding smile. Maybe another time, kiddo. Today we’ll ride together.
 
They met again 15 minutes later at the diner, a retro place with red booths and the smell of fresh pie in the air. Mason slid into the booth across from Emily, and for a moment, Olivia just stared at them, amazed by how easily her daughter was leaning forward, whispering something to him. Jack ordered black coffee, nothing else.
 
Olivia noticed his hands, scarred, calloused, but steady. She couldn’t ignore the faint limp when he shifted in his seat. So, she said carefully, how did you know what to say to her? Jack’s gaze dropped to his coffee.
 
My sister stopped talking when we were kids, after our dad left. Everyone thought she was broken. She wasn’t.
 
She just didn’t trust people anymore. Olivia swallowed. And you got her to talk? His lips quirked.
 
I didn’t get her to do anything. I just listened until she wanted to answer. He glanced up at Emily.
 
Kids know who’s safe. Mason giggled suddenly, and Emily laughed, really laughed. The sound made Olivia’s chest ache.
 
Then the waitress came by with refills, and Jack’s hands shifted on the table. His sleeve pulled back, revealing a thin, faded hospital band around his wrist. It was old, frayed, but still there.
 
Olivia frowned. Were you recently in the hospital? Jack slid his sleeve back down. Something like that.
 
There was weight in his voice, too much to ignore. And Olivia decided right then she wasn’t going to. Olivia waited until Mason and Emily were distracted by the slice of chocolate pie the waitress set down between them before leaning forward.
 
Jack, you don’t owe me anything. But whatever’s going on, I feel like it matters. Especially if you can reach Emily like that.
 
He stared into his coffee like it might hold an escape. For a long moment, the only sound was the clink of forks as the kids shared their dessert. Finally, he said quietly, I got out of the hospital a month ago.
 
VA rehab. I was a paramedic in the army. Two tours in Afghanistan.
 
On my last run, we hit an IED. My leg took the brunt. My best friend didn’t make it.
 
Olivia’s throat tightened. I’m sorry. Jack’s jaw flexed.
 
After that, I couldn’t stand the noise. Crowds, sirens, even the TV. Mason and I moved into a small place on the edge of town.