A Restraining Order

The persistent ringing of your alarm clock jolts you awake, a jarring reminder that summer—and your period of moping—is over. You have a new job starting today, a chance for a fresh start. Dragging yourself out of the warm comfort of your bed, you head to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of your reflection. The beard you grew out during the summer is gone, a small but noticeable change that makes you feel... brighter. You cling to that feeling, needing it to face the day.

Downstairs, your niece and nephew are already up, their laughter echoing through the living room. You had set an alarm for them too, just in case, and it seems it worked. After the usual morning chaos of getting two small children ready for school, your mother arrives to pick them up, her presence a familiar comfort.

Goodbyes said, you prepare to leave, grabbing the keys to your sister's minivan, your own car refusing to start. Traffic is light, but a moment of distraction—or perhaps just bad luck—leads to a jolt. Someone has hit you from behind. Stepping out of the minivan, ready to confront the culprit, you are met with a deep, rude voice and a face that is frustratingly, undeniably attractive.